On Living an Amazingly Single Life

  

     I am thirty-two years old and am happily single.  I have been single for the vast majority of my adult life and I would not change that for the world.  This post is not about what is better, single or married life.  It's not about me proving to anyone that I am content as I am.  I feel no need to prove anything to anyone.  This is merely me wanting to give my two cents worth on the experiences I have had as a single adult.

     In my years as a single woman I have had various and sundry comments from friends, family members and church brothers/sisters, comments that I truly believe were well intentioned and made out of true love and concern for my happiness. These comments although said with the best of intentions only caused sadness, an erosion of emotional stability, and questioning of basic self worth. I would like to share with you those comments and help you see them through the eyes of a single person.  My intent here is not to throw the love and concern of any one person back in their face, only to help show how your expression of love is actually heard by someone who is living a single life.  Here are some examples:

#1.) 

 What is said:   "I know this may be hard sometimes, but I am praying for you that God will send you someone too." (said while patting my shoulder or leg while at some couples event or wedding)

What is heard:  "I see that you are alone in life and I assume you must be so sad to be alone that you cannot find joy in the love of those around you.  I am praying for you that God will send you someone to fill the obvious hole in your life so that you can finally enjoy these type of events."

What I'm Actually Feeling:  I am super excited and overflowing with happiness and joy.  I am tearing up because I am thinking of the love surrounding me and how blessed I am to be a part of it.  I haven't actually considered the fact that I am single or compared my happiness to those around me until you felt the need to point it out to me.  What you intended to be a word of encouragement has actually been the single catalyst that has reminded me of my unmarried state and made me feel like maybe I should be comparing my level of happiness to that of the people surrounding me who are in a relationship. 

#2.)

What is said:  "Don't give up hope, I know God has someone special for you."

What is heard: " You seem down and depressed and I am afraid you think you will never marry.  Don't worry I have a personal witness from God that you will marry at some point in time.  Just take my word for it and you can be happy."

What I'm Actually Feeling:  You have assumed several things about my life.  You have decided that I am not happy even though I personally have not expressed that to you in any way.  You have decided that the reason for my perceived unhappiness must be my single status and not something else in my life which implies to me that you see nothing else of importance in my life for me to be concerned or worried about.  You have also decided that even though there are many people in the world who live completely happy lives without a mate, that will not be my story because you know I will marry even if I don't know that yet.  Finally, through this statement you are implying to me that there can be nothing more important I am hoping for in life than to 'find a man'.

#3.)
What is said:  "When I finally gave up searching and got things in order in my life, that's when I found my spouse."

What is heard: "You are just too desperate and your personal life is a mess that's why you haven't found anyone yet.  If you would work on yourself and stop focusing on finding someone then your mate would magically appear."

What I'm Actually Feeling:  By making this statement you are unknowingly judging both my status in life as well as whether or not I am currently looking for a mate.  You think you have given me great advise because it happened to ring true in your life.  What you do not see is that I have not been actively seeking a mate and my personal life is in order as evidenced by my ability to successfully care for myself for a significant number of years.  When you make this statement, instead of being reassuring as you may have intended, you have started an internal domino effect that will cause me to question every thought and action in my life and wonder where I have some huge flaw that needs to be 'fixed' so that I can have the 'magical' moment you did.

#4.)
What is said: "There is no greater blessing or gift one can be given or give than the gift of life.  The church needs strong families full of children.  Our families are the future of the church.  Children are our greatest blessings." (Sometimes expressed in other words, but a similar sentiment.  I have heard this both in conversation and over the pulpit.)

What is heard: "Since children are the greatest blessing one can have and families are the strength and future of the church you are pretty much useless to the church in your current status as a single female.  You have nothing to give to the growth and strength of the church until you are married and bearing children."

What I'm Actually Feeling: Why do I even serve in any capacity if it will never be good enough or worth anything until I am attached to a man and bearing children?  Are there not wonderful things I can contribute to the work of the gospel on my own as a single woman?  Are there not things I can do and ways I can serve that married women cannot?  Why am I even here if I'm no good to the church on my own merit? 

#5.)
What is said: "You're just too picky.  That's the problem with single women over the age of 26, they are either too picky or desperate."

What is heard: "You should have just picked someone by now because at this point whoever you settle on we will assume you only chose him because you are desperate."

What I'm Actually Feeling: I'm so confused by this statement as it contradicts itself on every level.  You have first told me I could be married if I wasn't such a picky person and had settled for whatever options have come my way, regardless of whether that person was the right fit for me.  Then you immediately state that women my age are also desperate, which implies they will take anyone who comes along.  So.....because I didn't marry anyone who came along I am too picky, but if I should do what you suggest you will immediately label me as desperate?  I have now stopped listening to any advise you give as it is clearly ridiculous.

     There are many other comments that I could put in here, but this is a sampling of what is heard most often.  To anyone who may have made these comments to me over the years...I do not harbor any ill feelings because I know you said it with love in your heart.  I firmly believe you just did not understand what your words meant to me.  To anyone in the future who says them....well...I know you know now...so be ready to hear some strait up truth coming from me about it.  And to those of you reading this who have single adult family members or friends please read the next paragraph closely.

     I am a thirty two year old single female....and I love my life!  I do not waste my hours pinning away wishing I were married or agonizing over my single status.  It is true that I have rare moments in time when I wish I didn't have to take care of all the responsibilities of life alone.  It is true that I have rare moments in time when I would love to have one best friend to come home to and talk about the day and my internal fears/concerns with and then make love to. It is also true that I do not believe I am missing out on any amount of love, laughter or joy in my life because I am unmarried.  God doesn't put less love or happiness in my life because I am without a mate, He just gives me more of other kinds of love.  While married women are caring for their babies and/or husbands I get to sponsor youth activities, have sleep overs with my best friends' kiddos, visit loved ones out of state and randomly decide to have dinner with church members on a week night. When my married friends are taking care of their children's education I am sharing friendship and love with my co-workers and others I meet through my job, I have extra time to volunteer with community events and be a basketball coach.  My life story is no less or more happy than your own, it's just my story and not yours.  Just as you have to choose and work for happiness in your married life, I have to choose and work for happiness in my single one.  Someday if The Lord wills it, I will be glad to be married and have children of my own but that is not when my happiness and my story will begin.  It will only be a new chapter to my story that is already being written....and I refuse to skip ahead when this chapter is such a good one.  

On Early Morning Meetings

     Some people, including my bff, may wonder why I like running so much.  Well, here is where I shock you...I don't.  I actually dread running.  The thought of plodding painfully down a road somewhere when I could be doing a zillion other enjoyable things is vomitus to me.  When my alarm wakes me at the horrendous hour of 4am there is nothing I would like more than to turn it off and sleep an extra hour or so.  And yet I run.  At this point you are probably wondering, "Laura, if you hate it so much...why do you keep on doing it?"  The complex answer is....I also love it...and the love outweighs my dislike.  Why do I love it?

     There is this irrigation canal near my work.  It runs for miles through the city, behind neighborhoods and through alfalfa and corn fields.  On either side of its banks are dirt trails made smooth by utility vehicles and farm machinery.  The canal itself is alive with beautiful Koi fish, ducks and sparrows.  When I am good, when I wake early enough to take the time...this is where I run.  When I hit the trail it is around 5:30 or so but it is still dark at this time of year.  The glassy surface of the water reflects the ambient light of the city bouncing off of low laying clouds.  I am surrounded by water and acres upon acres of life springing from the ground in one form or another...the earth is quiet...still slowly rising from the nights slumber. 

     At first as I start out the air feels bitter cold and I have to hide my hands in my sleeves to keep my fingers warm.  My lungs send sharp pangs inside me as the cold air is drawn deeply into them.  The muscles in my legs suddenly feel as though I have inflated them with lead and after a few hundred feet they are not wanting to continue.  About a half of a mile in it seems as though every cell in my body is screaming at me to just stop and walk.  "It's not like you're moving much faster than a walk anyway.", they scream in sarcastic unison.  This is when it happens, this is my moment of decision.  If I slow to a walk it is all over....I am defeated.  But If I continue...if I move forward with a prayer on my lips...Then my favorite part of the day has begun.

     My lungs hurt, my joints are stiff, I am cold, my muscles are heavy and I want to walk back to the car.  Until I say these quiet words in my heart, "Lord please bless me to keep going.  Help me to focus on you and what is most important."  My focus shifts as I begin to pray about the day before me.  What should I say, where should I go, who can I be a friend to?  Then the prayers shift again and I'm thinking of my loved ones, considering their needs and wants as well as how I can be there for them.  I am contemplating my life now, my very heart and the decisions that are ahead of me when I realize I'm not tired anymore.  In fact, I am moving faster and have gone farther than I expected to.  My breath is steady and regular and my muscles feel warm and relaxed.  Every inch of my being is moving forward with my thoughts and prayers.

     That is where I meet him then...my Savior.  Out there in the darkness on that silent trail.  I reflect on Him and His blessed presence in my life.  Thank Him fore His gifts poured out on me with such love.  I look up to the mountains and see the sky starting to fill with daylight.  I see the birds glide across the still waters and smell the sweet odor of crops growing in the field.  I am awake and alive, I am in the presence of my Heavenly Father and He is giving me the strength to keep moving when I would fail on my own.

     It is here that I am reminded of His strength to carry me.  His ability to see far beyond my mortal eyes into the depths of eternity.  In this land where I see next to nothing, He speaks to my heart and shows me that He sees it all and has a plan.  I cannot doubt, I cannot fear, I must ignore what 'reason' would say is true.  Because while I am only a being made to reason, He is a God of wonders.

     As I near the end of my run I am filled with peace and joy.  I have had my morning meeting and discussed the issues facing me.  I have solicited His care and protection over myself and my loved ones.  I have been reminded that my limitations are not His own, and with Him I can accomplish anything He deems necessary and right and true.  I never walk (or run) alone.

     This is what I hope and pray for you.  Find that one thing....the something that you think you cannot accomplish, or perhaps you are afraid you will fail.  Maybe it's a physical thing, but maybe it is not.  Maybe it is a task you feel is beyond your skills or an emotional weight that seems too heavy to lift, whatever it is your heart knows it.  Right now, if you are being honest, you know what it is.  Take in a deep painful breath and start moving your lead ridden feet forward.  Whisper a prayer to your Heavenly Father to keep you moving in the right direction.  I promise you this, if you step out and move forward, if you are willing to push through the reason in your head that tells you to give it up and walk away, you will not be running your race alone.  You will not be without strength to get you where you are needing to go.  He is waiting to meet with you....you just have to be willing to dedicate the time and put in the energy and most of all....trust that He will not let you fail.    

On Home, Family and Chuppah Making

     Several months back my bff and I were talking about her upcoming wedding.  She was looking online for a chuppah for the ceremony and could not find something that felt right.  Being a best friend I of course got online and began researching with her.  Jess was totally right.  There were some pretty chuppahs online, but they were either much too simple or ornate to fit her style.  They just didn't speak to the significance and beauty I knew she would want it to posses.  Plus, for the most part they were hugely expensive.  As I was looking online I began praying, "Lord, what would be best for Jess and Charlie?  If there's something out there that would fit them please help either her or I to find it so she won't be stressed about it.  Show me what would work."  Then as I looked at photo after photo, slowly an idea began to form in my mind.  A picture of what felt like a perfect fit for Jess and Charlie and the commitment they felt to their Heavenly Father and future life together.  After another hour or so of looking, I had found nothing like what I could see in my minds eye.  Being a poor artist and a bit afraid she would hate the idea, I hesitatingly drew out what I saw in my mind.  A simple square with intertwined wedding rings, the wedding date centered in the bands and surrounding them the phrase, "I have found the one in whom my soul delights."  I sent Jess a picture of my idea and was super surprised at her response.  Both she and Charlie really liked it.  "I think I can just make it for you.", I calmly replied.  It was decided, I was to make the chuppah. 

     I am by no means a talented seamstress.  My skill level sits right at 'I do well enough to make things that are not hideous....mostly'; because of this I do not sew on a regular basis.  I do however love the act of making any gift for someone I love.  I truly enjoy the time spent working at the task, considering the person I am making it for.  How will they like it most?  Will they be able to feel my love for them when they look at it?  How can I make it best fit who they are in their heart of hearts?  I love sitting and working on the item while I pray over the person it is intended for.  I like to imagine all of the love and prayers that are put into the gift will make up for the flaws that I am sure will exist in the final product.  Needless to say, I prayed quite a bit over this chuppah.  By the time my hours of cutting, sewing and stitching on beads were done I had come to love this representation of Jess and Charlie's future home.  I loved the spiritual and cultural significance behind it, what it represented to them and how honored I was to have had such a huge part in the building of it.  I was also terrified the end result would not be what she had pictured in her mind and she would find herself disappointed in my efforts.  I knew Jess was too sweet to ever let me know if she did not love it, so I prayed all the harder that God would bless it to be just right for both she and Charlie.  I knew in the grand scheme of things it wouldn't ruin their day, but I wanted my part to be worthy of the love they were celebrating.  I was very much thankful and relieved when they were both happy with the outcome. 

     By this point you are probably wondering what the thunder this has to do with home and family.  Well, everything really.  The tie in is coming I promise.

     All in all with planning, shopping, cutting, sewing and beading the chuppah took about 50hrs to complete.  That's a lot of hours to pray for and contemplate the future of Jess and Charlie and their sweet family.  Sometimes during my contemplation my mind would wander to the concepts of family and home in general.  What makes a family?  What is it to build a home together?  What are the joys and trials that come with that process?  There are so many unseen ties that need to be made.  So many chances each person must be willing to take.  Ones that can be super risky, especially at the onset.  How does one get to the point where they are willing to say, "I will risk complete failure and heartbreak for just the chance that this could be as fantastic as I am thinking it may be."? 

     I am someone who likes control, especially over my heart.  Unless you are a child you do not get a free pass into my inner sanctuary, especially if you are someone who I could become severely attached to only to lose.  Okay, yeah I know in my head that is not the best way to be....but my head and my heart tend to speak two different languages sometimes.  It just is a fact I have to struggle with as an individual.  Because of that fact even the thought of giving up possible control of what I'm thinking/feeling toward someone and being willing to share that without first having some major assurances is freakishly terrifying to me.  But the truth is those risks are required all of the time in building families and homes.  Because who can possibly hurt us more than the ones we rely on the most, and who can ever build us up more than those in who's presence we are most at home?

     So, here is my point in all of this rambling.  I want to not be afraid to not know what will come of something.  I want to be willing to jump and let The Lord make it what He will.  I want to have that perfect love which is the absence of fear, with everyone and not just with my best friends and the innocent children in my life.  I want to know that I can look at someone and think, "Yeah, lets just see.  I'm willing to risk it." I want to put as much of my heart into a possibility as I put into Jess' chuppah, just to hand it over with nothing but the hope that it is exactly what they were needing at just the right moment.    

On Painting for Love

     And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.

Galatians 6:9

     What does it mean to love someone and how do you show it?  This is a question that presented itself to me this last week when I found myself scrubbing doors and baseboards in my home.  There is a book out there that discusses the topic of 'love languages'.  It's a decent read and postulates the theory that there are five distinct ways that humans communicate love; through words, actions, gifts, time and touch.  The concept is that each person communicates and receives love through one or two primary channels and if you are attempting to show love through a different channel they may not recognize/acknowledge that love as you intended.  Hence, in order to completely communicate our love with one another we must recognize how we receive love and how the other person receives love.  (example: If you receive love best through time spent with you and I only tell you how much I love you, you will not feel the love that I am expressing to you.  On the flip side, if you spend all day with me and don't tell you how much you love me I may not feel your expression of love to me if I am someone who needs to hear the words.)

     For the most part I do not disagree with what this concept.  I think it is important to pay attention to how you express and receive love.  I also believe it is equally important to pay attention to how those you care about express and receive love.  To me it is a part of emotional communication that is necessary in any type of relationship.  (Now here comes the rear end) But...I believe this book misses out on something too.  I believe in order for a complete and perfect expression of love to exist there must also be love expressed in the smallest of details that may never be recognized by the other person.  Love does not only exist when the other person recognizes it, it exists in it's purest form when your words/actions cannot and may never be seen.  It is built on foundations that lie deep beneath the surface of what is obvious to others.  Its strength is in the constant and often ignored details.  Those things that are said/done for no other reason than to benefit the bond you are seeking to create.  There are so many examples I can draw from here, but I would like to share the one that struck me as I was crouched on the floor of my hallway scrubbing dust from unseen corners.

     This last week was my fall break and as I had no plans to travel I determined it was time to buckle down and begin repainting the interior of the house.  It hasn't been done in quite a few years and the walls were showing significant signs of wear, but up until now I have not had the gumption to begin such a daunting task.  I decided with a full week before me surely I could accomplish two rooms and a hallway.  The trick with painting though is you never realize how time consuming it will be until you begin the job and realize, you have to deep clean everything before you slap on new paint, there are cabinets that need removed and furniture that needs to be worked around, there are switch plates and fixtures that need removed and cleaned before being returned...the list grows as you dig deeper in.  Once I had the walls in the bathroom done I realized with dismay that the baseboards really needed a fresh coat of paint as well, then when that was done I realized the door looked pretty dingy.  On the afternoon of day four I found myself with the bathroom done and the hallway walls painted.  I decided the hallway baseboards needed done as well and thought, "I will just quickly wash the doors and their moldings at the same time.  Then it will all look fresh and clean."

     Half way through the cleaning job I am irritated that I started it.  It is taking forever and the result only shows me how much I need to cover all of it with a new coat of paint.  I have only revealed for myself the need for more time and work to be put into this project.  I think to myself, "Why not just leave it as is, who would care.  I only set out to finish the walls, why add in so much extra effort for something that won't even be noticed by most people who come in the house."  As I am struggling with the lazy part of me that doesn't want to add on to my growing list of chores, this tiny thought enters the back of my mind like a ninja time bomb just waiting for the right moment to explode and change everything I am thinking/feeling: "Who put in these baseboards in the first place?  Why did they put forth the effort? Was it worth it to them?"  The answers come quickly.  My cousin Bob built this home, out of love for his wife and his future family and if I asked him today I am confident he would say it was worth every exhausting moment.  With the answers comes my reflection on love in it's most fundamental albeit mundane form.

     The home I live in is owned by my cousin Bob.  After many years of living a Godly and single life he married his wife and built her this home through funds saved during his single years.  He built this home with his own sweat and love for her and their future as a family.  The friends and family members who helped him do so, put in their hours out of love for them.  Cement was poured, walls framed, tiles grouted, fixtures hung and baseboards painted....all in love.  Work that is not fun, holds no glory and is most quickly forgotten or passed over; but was not accomplished without the desire to express complete dedication, affection and a hope for the future.

     While I lay there on the floor scrubbing dirt and layers of faded paint away I considered the hours of life and energy that went into the building and maintaining of this home.  An imperfect building made into a perfect home because of the love put into it.  I considered all of the boring, time consuming and mundane tasks performed in this home on a regular basis. The sweeping, moping, dishes, landscaping and handiwork that goes regularly unnoticed.  Why do we do it all?  Yes, partly it is done to maintain a sanitary living space but there's more to it than that.  Or at least there should be more to it.  There should be a greater purpose in these chores we put ourselves through, there should be love in them, even if that love is never noticed or recognized by those we live with and do it for.  We should put it in there for them regardless of their seeing it or not.  Because it is the love we put into what we say/do, not how much they receive, that helps our bonds to strengthen and grow.

     As the mental time bomb exploded and cleared my mind, I found this new realization dawning, " I am not cleaning and painting all of this just because it needs to be done.  I am doing it because I love the owners of this home and want to maintain the building they have built out of their love.  I am doing it because I love my niece and roommate and want to give them a beautiful and secure home to live in.  I am doing it because with every stroke of the paintbrush I am telling them I love them and want to take care of their needs as best I can.  If that is not my purpose in all of this, I should just stop now, because there is no other purpose worth this much time and energy.  And it doesn't matter if they never see this as an expression of love, because the expression exists regardless of their recognition of it." 

     The task in front of me did not become any less daunting or frustrating after this revelation.  The work did not fly by magically because I had realized its greater purpose.  It was just as difficult, tiring and irritating as ever.  But in my moments of exhaustion and frustration I thought of the faces of the loved ones I was doing it for and my desire to throw in the towel went away.  And while they may never consciously know it, I will look at each surface and remember how much I care for them and that knowledge will inspire me to say/do more to show that love in other ways.

    

On Questions

     Matthew 14:25-31

     In English the definition of crisis is: a time of intense difficulty, trouble or danger.  But in Chinese the word for crisis is wei-ji (or chi).  Wei meaning 'danger' and ji (chi) meaning 'crucial/critical point'.  I love the Chinese definition because it is not simply a moment fraught with fear and danger, it also holds the potential for growth and change.  If one is at a dangerous critical point it implies they have a decision to make and that decision may fundamentally change their future.  So a moment of crisis becomes a moment of opportunity.  It still possesses potential for failure and loss but maintains a hope of something better to come.

     I have been considering this word crisis in relation to one's spiritual life.  There is a tendency to see a 'crisis of faith' as the worst possible thing that could happen to someone.  As if when faced with such a crisis the person is doomed to utter loss and ultimate failure if those who are of strong faith don't forcibly pull them into safety. I would argue that thought process is believed to be based in love, but is truly based in fear.

     In my minds eye I see the iconic image of a fishing vessel tossed about on the waves of a great sea by an endless storm.  Inside of the boat is safety and security and outside of it is what appears to be certain death.  The majority watch the storm, looking to help pull to safety anyone who is trapped in the merciless waters below, but a few look out and wonder, "Is the storm truly that bad?".   Perhaps someone, whether drawn away and blinded by their own desires or called to accomplish something the others cannot yet see or understand, steps out of the safety of the vessel into the wildness of the crashing waves.  Out of love and concern those still within the ship call out, cry, beg and grasp for their loved one...afraid they will never be seen again.  Afraid they should have done more, should have seen them walking to the edge and given warning sooner.  Perhaps they have been calling and holding on for awhile, to no avail. 

     I wonder when Peter walked to the edge of the ship...what were those with him thinking?  Were they confident with the knowledge that Christ was in power and would keep Peter above the waves or were they thinking and telling him he was crazy and should never step out into certain death?  Did they warn him to stay in the safety of the ship or encourage him to follow their Savior?  He asked The Lord for something greater and was given a calling that required all of his focus and faith to accomplish.  It required him seeing and believing in something greater than the security of what he understood as safe and best.  He was in a moment of a great 'crisis of faith' and he had to make a choice.  On the one hand his current level of faith and understanding and on the other hand the potential for death or spiritual growth that would fundamentally change the course of his life. 

     Peter did not walk on water, he stepped out and was instantly overcome by the strength of the storm surrounding him.  In fear his faith wavered and he began to sink into the depths of the sea.  What were the thoughts of his brothers still in the boat I wonder....I can imagine what my thoughts would be.  A combination of terror for his safety and smugness in knowing I was right that it could not be accomplished and he should have stayed where he belonged.

     The thing is...even though Peter immediately 'missed the mark' (side note: the word sin in Hebrew means to miss the mark) and began to sink, he also knew who to turn to for help.  He cried to his Savior to lift him up and save him.  Immediately Christ was at his side raising him from certain death.  Here's the kicker, after bringing him up out of the sea Jesus did not chide Peter for asking to step into the storm and walk on water.  He only chided Peter for failing to believe He had all power over that which could destroy him.  He didn't say, "Peter you idiot why would you ever think you could ever step out of that boat and overcome the wind and waves, you are not the Son of God." instead he said, "Peter why would you doubt my power to hold you up in the midst of this storm?".  He wasn't upset that Peter had a 'crisis of faith' he was upset that Peter did not trust Him during that crisis.

     I know there are many of you who are or will be going through your own 'crisis of faith'.  I have mine just as you have yours.  I cannot decide for you and get you through them any more than you can for me.  What I can do is assure you of what I believe is true.  Your Heavenly Father is not afraid of your questions, nor your 'crisis of faith' in fact, I believe, He welcomes the opportunity to help you grow stronger through them.  As long as you are asking His direction through them He will show you when and where is the right time to step out in faith.  As long as you know to call out to Him for salvation when you miss the mark, He will lift you out of the waves threatening to cover you.  He does not expect you to remain in stagnant safety and security forever, He expects you to seek His guidance and believe that He has all power to hold you above the storm. 

The Gift of Healing

     Were you aware that prior to the mid 1800's it was a common belief and understanding that spiritual gifts like speaking in tongues, miracles, healing and prophecy no longer existed?  That our Heavenly Father did not directly communicate with and bless His people as He had in old times?  Check any church history prior to 1830, the concept of an active and participatory God who spoke to and through His children was nonexistent during the 18th and into the 19th century.  Oh, don't get me wrong there were many good and God fearing people with great faith.  They just didn't believe the gifts of the spirit were in existence.  And, barring some isolated incidents, I believe they weren't.

     Then in 1830 Christ re-established the fullness of His gospel on the earth.  And now, 183 years later, it is common in those of all christian faiths to believe in the active gifts of the spirit.  Prophecy, miracles, healings and speaking in tongues are all known and recognized gifts of the Holy Spirit that are understood to be active in the earth.  It is an amazing contrast that I cannot ignore.  What is my point?  Well, really that is just a tangent to my main purpose today.  I want to share with you a gift of healing I was given last night.

     So, about 5yrs ago I obliterated my ACL while skiing.  The injury required surgery and several months of rehab before I was moving normal again and unfortunately you can't sustain that much damage to a joint without weakening the entire thing which means that knee is forever my 'weak' knee.  People ask me which is my 'bad' knee...folks I don't have a 'bad' knee, just one that is weaker than the other.  It functions as it should, I just have to be more careful with the amount of stress and strain I put on it.  If a knee holds me up and functions it is not 'bad'.

     Anyway, awhile ago I learned the hard way that if my foot is planted solid and my upper body turns quickly to the right it sets off a painful chain reaction in my left knee.  I forget what the physical therapist said it's called, but essentially my MCL becomes inflamed and angry and refuses to fully extend or bend without severe pain.  apparently the pain is similar to actually tearing the MCL so it takes a week or two for them to be able to tell if it is just inflammation or something more severe.  (basically if it gets better with therapy its minor, if it doesn't get better...to the surgeon you go.)

     Last night after doing my workout I sat on the floor playing with my dog for awhile.  As I began to get up from the floor I felt a familiar stab of pain in my left knee.  Yep, it was that simple.  I was sitting and moved to a squatting position and instantly my outlook on the day darkened.  I attempted to put my full weight on my left leg and was met with such blinding pain that I literally cried out.  I knew immediately what part of my knee was angry, what I didn't know is how bad it was.  I stumbled into the kitchen grabbing chairs and counter tops for support as I went.  Each step brought forth a new cry and by the time I made it the twelve feet to the kitchen sink I was sobbing.  A combination of nauseating pain and paralyzing fear that something was horribly wrong dominated my being.  I took some ibuprofen and got my ice pack out of the freezer then moved with the speed of a half paralyzed zombie into the bathroom to get a wrap.

     Once set up on the couch with my leg up and on ice I began praying and begging God.  Please help this to calm down, please don't let it be bad.  I sent a message to my three best friends asking for prayers that somehow it would be okay.  About ten minutes into my misery one of my roommates came home.  She asked what happened and I could barely answer through my deluge of tears.  I told her I didn't know what was making me cry more, the pain or the fear that I had sustained a severe injury.  She made the decision that I needed administration and called for two ministers to come. Buckle up, this is where it gets really good.

     My neighbor (who is a minister in my church), his wife, a friend and another minister from a block over all showed up at my front door within ten minutes.  My neighbor's wife had just had surgery the day before and felt the need for administration as well.  We had a season of prayer after which both of us were administered to.  As the ministry laid their hands on my head and began to pray I immediately felt an overwhelming peace fill my body.  My muscles, tense from fighting the pain, fully relaxed.  My breathing became deep and even and my heart became calm.  As I spoke in my heart to my Heavenly Father, He answered through the prayers of his servants.  No joke, no exaggeration here.  EVERYTHING I asked Him for in my mind was immediately spoken of or referenced by the ministry in their prayers.  Before they even finished praying, I knew my knee was fine.  When they said amen they moved to my sister and began administering to her, and I took my leg down and bowed in prayer.  No pain when I moved, NONE!

     When my sister's administration was over I stood up and walked into the kitchen.  There was some pain as I fully extended my leg and placed my full weight on it, but I was walking around the house with only minor pain!  Not even a half hour before It took me ten minutes and significant pain/tears just to get ibuprofen and an ice pack.  The miracle of healing folks.  There are no two ways about it.

     Perhaps you chose to see my testimony as only a coincidence.  After all....the pain isn't entirely gone and I will have to baby my knee for a few days until I am 100% again.  Shouldn't I be perfectly fine and able to run a marathon if I was healed?  Well, I can't tell you what to believe only you can do that.  I can only tell you what I know.  I know that at 9:30pm last night I wasn't sure If I would be walking normally again without surgery.  After being administered to I was walking around my house with only minimal pain and this morning I was able to take my niece to school and take a trip to the grocery store.  That my friends is absolutely nothing short of a miracle.  That my friends is the power and gift of healing.  Take a look through your scriptures, where are we promised perfection?  We are promised to be given what we need, nothing more.  I am going about my day because He has healed me, the little pain that remains is only there to remind me of His gift. 

            

The Coupon

 Think about how a coupon is redeemed.  You purchase a newspaper and in that newspaper is a coupon for a free box of Cheerios.  You drive yourself to the grocery store and take a box of Cheerios to the register.  The cashier says that will be $3.26 with tax and you hold up your coupon saying, “No, this one is actually mine.”  You walk out of the store having redeemed the cereal for your own.  Well, that’s kind of how I see the redeeming love of Christ.  You see, before Christ came God’s people had to offer up sacrifices to God to cover their sin.  When Christ came and died on the cross He became the final and perfect sacrifice for sin.  It is His sacrifice that covers our sin and allows us to return to the presence of God when this life is over.

When I die I will stand before God and have to make an explanation for all of my actions that went against the law of God.  Because of my sin, I would be consigned to be separated from God for all eternity.  But, because I have chosen to be baptized and follow Christ I am covered by His sacrifice.  This is how I imagine that day:

 I imagine myself standing before the throne of God, remembering how I have failed Him and realizing I stand no chance to be allowed into His presence.  I am soon kneeling on the floor; my head is bowed because I am ashamed and scared to look at my God.  In my heart I am consigning myself to the fact that I have failed, when from somewhere behind me Christ walks to me and lifts my chin.  He looks into my eyes and I know that He knows me…I am His.  He looks at my Heavenly Father on His throne and lifts up a piece of paper.  As He hands the paper to my God and King He says, “She is covered.  I have claimed her as my own through my sacrifice.” When my Heavenly Father takes the paper in His hands I see that on it is written my name…in the blood of Christ.  Then Christ lifts me to my feet and I hear, “Welcome home my good and faithful servant.”

The thing with the plan of redemption is it only applies to those who desire to follow and belong to Christ.  He cannot cover the sins of those who do not desire to have a part of his sacrifice. 

On Being a Fool for Love

This is a moment of confession.  If you don't wish to see that I am made of flaws then you should go back to whatever you were doing before opening this page. (unless it was illegal or immoral, in that case please just keep reading)  However, if you are brave enough to love me flaws and all and would like to learn from my failures please continue reading.

For the past seven years (seven already?!) I have made my home in Phoenix, Arizona.  I love living here and have met many dear friends who have been a great source of strength and growth in that time.  I would not go back and change my decision to move.  That being said, seven years ago I left Missouri and my dear family and friends who are a huge part of who I am, and while I don't necessarily miss Missouri, I do miss my loved ones terribly.  So, I do my best to get back when I can and for as long as I can.

Anyone who has moved away from 'home' knows that you cannot successfully visit and spend enough time with everyone you want to.  Your time is spent a flurry of running from visit to visit trying to squeeze as much love into each moment you have.  Invariably you hop on the plane or into your car (why is it on a plane, but in a car?) happy with yourself that you have succeeded in spending time with everyone most important to you only to be hit with the realization of the one, two or ten people you failed to see.  So you make a plan for 'next time' to ensure those individuals get their proper amount of attention. (after all relationships, as anything else that grows, need time put into them or they wither and disappear)

In the past year and a half or so I have traveled back to Missouri about four times, and a couple of those trips have been for a good week or so which gave me time to reconnect with loved ones whom I had missed in previous trips.  It has been lovely.  My Aunt and Uncle (they are home to me in MO) live about 40min out of the city which was perfect because driving into town and back allowed me time to reminisce about days gone by.  For the last few trips as I drove past a particular exit in Blue Springs I felt a tug on my heart pulling me northward and I would ignore it.  "I have to be ..... in 15minutes to meet ..... I don't have time."  If I had followed that little tug, that whisper in my heart, it would have led me on a pretty winding road northward into a lovely subdivision and to the door of my dear friend Janice Welch.

A contemporary and friend of my mother, Janice seemed to always have been a part of my life.  When I moved to Missouri at the age of 15 her kids were around my same age and I became friends with them through our church youth group.  I was always in awe of Janice.  She was always  a smiling presence in church, but I feared she did not like me at all.

You see, when I was about 12 I had misjudged packing church clothes for a reunion and  ran out of things to wear.  Not wanting to wear dirty clothes I wore shorts to church and she gently reminded me shorts were not the appropriate choice for church. She was not rude or mean or harsh about it at all, but I was a very shy and diminutive thing (hard to believe, but it's true) who assumed everyone disliked me in some way. So, in my unreasonable 12 year old mind Janice would always see me as 'that girl who wore shorts to church'.  I never once thought to explain that it was done out of need and not disrespect.  Silly 12 year old girl.  So from that day forward I assumed I would never be worthy in her eyes.  And to me she was the pinnacle of what a lady should look like and say and do, a pinnacle that I would never get close to achieving.

Thanks to the grace of God that all changed when I was about 16.  I had been diligently seeking what in my heart needed to change in regards to my relationships with others and I knew this seed of doubt needed to be put to rest where Janice was concerned.  I felt convicted in my heart that I needed to just sit down with her and talk over how I felt.  I was terrified.  What if I had been right and I would always be 'that girl' to her?  Regardless of my fears, I realized it was not fair to her for me to assume she did not like me.  If I was not willing to give her the benefit of assuming her love then I was not worthy of her love.  So, one Sunday afternoon I pulled her aside.  She was floored.  She had not even remembered the incident from four years before and had no idea I had any reservations of her love.  That day Janice and I formed a bond which I am so thankful for.  A bond which helped show me the strength of love, the importance of communication with those you love and the beauty that comes in a relationship with another human being when you are willing to be terrifyingly open with them.

As I traveled the highway to my given destinations last year I remembered all the joy and love I shared with Janice and her dear family in their home.  The nights playing games, barbequing, singing together or watching movies.  The laughter and joy flooded back to me each time I felt that strange pull, the quiet whisper 'just go stop by and see if they are home'.  Each time I would tell myself no, "I'm sure they are busy," I would think, "They have their own lives to live, they are probably busy or tired and I don't have their phone number to call first.  I can't just show up, that's rude and they probably aren't even home."  And while I drove on my heart kept calling me back, "just go, you know you want to go.".

I wish I could tell you I listened.  I wish I could say I made that attempt.  That I stopped by out of the blue, ignoring social norms just because I wanted the chance to see Gary and Janice and hug them and tell them what they mean to me.  What a blessing God gave me in having their influence in my life.  Because you see, Janice has been battling cancer, and this past Monday evening the Lord healed her by calling her home to Him.  So I cannot plan to give her time on my next visit.  I cannot hug her one last time and make sure she knows how precious her influence was to me.  All that time my heart knew and pulled at me to go, but because of a fear of seeming foolish or socially inappropriate I ignored my opportunities. 

I am not writing this because I want you to have sympathy for me.  Don't waste your emotions on being 'sorry'.  I know that Janice now knows all things and knows how much I loved her.  She did not lose out on that knowledge, I missed out on the opportunity to share it with her.  Take this as a warning lesson.  Love is not about social norms or appropriateness.  And love comes in all forms, not just the romantic kind.  So think about who you love in your life and what they mean to you.  Have you gone out of your way to tell them?  Do you feel that quiet pull in your heart to say or do something that may seem foolish or out of the ordinary? DO IT, SAY IT!!! Don't fail in showing the love for someone that is in your heart.  

On The Women Who Made This Woman

"The aged women likewise, that they be in behaviour as becometh holiness, not false accusers, not given to much wine, teachers of good things; That they may teach the young women to be sober, to love their husbands, to love their children, to be discreet, chaste, keepers at home, good, obedient to their own husbands, that the word of God be not blasphemed." -Titus 2:3-5-

Yesterday I went rock climbing with my Colorado family.  If you have had the opportunity to meet them you know without my saying how awesome an adventure we had together.  I will not go into the details of our fun as that is not the point of this post.  The point is how my interaction with my Meah got me to thinking of all the women in my life who have helped to shape the woman I am today and what a great debt I owe to them for fulfilling their responsibilities of being a Godly example. 

I will start by saying that I battle with a fear of heights, it's enough to slow my adventurous spirit but it's mild enough it can be ignored when I am faced with the proper motivation to push through.  I was belaying Meah on one of the lower level climbing walls and right as she got to the point where I personally had felt terror trying to overtake my body she said she was done and ready to come down.  I complied and helped her to the ground and within a couple minutes she wanted to go up again.  I looked her in the eye and said, "I will belay you only if you push through your fear and go all the way to the top."  She assured me she would and got about halfway up the wall when she said she was yet again ready to come down.  "Come on Meah you've got this, I was scared right there too, just focus on where you are going to move next and you will make it."  Slowly she climbed her way to the top as I talked with her giving her pointers on good foot/hand holds.  When she tapped the top of the wall I couldn't help but let her know what a superstar she was.  By the end of the two hours she was climbing up several different walls and having a blast and even going out of her way to encourage me up one wall.  Toward the end of our climbing time she looked at me and with all of her 9yr old sweetness said, "Thank you for helping me climb and calling me a superstar.  It really helped and made me feel safe." 

I have been contemplating our exchange throughout my morning scripture read and was brought to remembrance of all the wonderful women who were, and still are, an example shaping and molding me into a better woman.  Essentially I just want to give a shout out to you all.  Some of you will know what you have meant to me already, but sadly some of you I may never have told and it is only right you should know your example has been seen and followed and become an intricate part of who I am.

So...to my mother who has ever been an example of giving 100% of herself in love, to my Aunt Bonnie who has been to me a second mother, to my grandmother who showed me the beauty of loving without using words, to my Aunt Eva Lyn who made me believe I can accomplish anything I decide to do, to my Aunt Leah who taught me hope is just as necessary and strong as faith, to my Aunt Bethany who taught me the importance of enjoying every minute you have with those you love, to my Aunt Lisa who taught me that sometimes a little bit of crazy is a good thing, to grandma Case who taught me that quiet is not the same as boring and everyone can benefit from a ladylike quiet, to Uncle Donnie's Bonnie who taught me you can be goofy and still be a lady, to Lana Hill who taught me the beauty of being a faithful wife and mother, to Aunt Linda who taught me the importance of love and patience in a marriage, to Aunt Paula who taught me that faithful doesn't mean pushy, to  Debbi Vogel who taught me what it is to put others first always, to Manon Lawrence who taught me that praising the Lord is a personal thing and not to think of what other's opinions are of my gift to God, to Janice Welch who taught me what it is to forgive and make amends with those you love, to Wanda Jo Eddy who taught me the strength in being humble, to Carrie Gier who taught me that a happy attitude will change your outlook on things for the better, to Chris Moser who taught me the ability of a mother's heart to love all who come her way, to Debby Brown who taught me the importance of having an open home and heart, to Kathy Ely who taught me what it is to love without losing hope, to Betty McIndoo who taught me what it is to love your children and family....Thank You.  More than I can say, thank you.

You should know this is not a comprehensive list, and I hope it is one that will keep growing for as long as I am alive.  That I will ever be learning and growing from the example of the women I know and love.  I hope and pray that I will live worthy of the women who's examples have touched my life, and someday my Meah will be able to look back and say that I was a Godly example and source of strength in hers. 

Shower of Sorrow

I am about to relate to you a very personal and traumatic experience.  It has taken me several weeks to recover from the trauma sufficiently to share.  Some things are just too life altering to process all at once, they are moments you never fully recover from.  I am afraid this was one of those moments. 

To set the scene for you I must give you an idea of what my morning schedule consists of.  I work five days a week at one of the best jobs ever.  Sadly, it's a 40 minute drive from my house and when you add on a 9hr work day I find am not prone to working out at the end of my shift.  To avoid ballooning into a smurf like character and to avoid valley traffic I wake up around 4:15 in the morning and get on the road by 5am.  This allows me about 45minutes to work out prior to my 7am on duty time.  Not wanting to be sweaty and gross all day I take a shower before changing into my work clothes.

Normally this entire process, besides the waking up part, is a relatively easy and stress relieving part of my day.  The morning work out puts me in an awesome mood and gets me ready to face the day.  Typically by the time I am taking my shower I am awake and happy enough to be singing along to my workout music. (that's right folks, I sing in the shower and feel no shame over it) 

Tuesday morning two weeks ago, instead of singing I found myself weeping like a child who just found out their favorite vanilla ice cream had been replaced with horseradish sauce. (I'm sorry I ever played that trick on you Kat.) Here's what happened...

I had an awesome workout and was feeling particularly beasty.  I hopped in the shower and started singing along with Beyonce like any other day.  Mentally I started going over my 'to do' list while going through a quick shower process. You know....face, hair then body. (I like doing things in a specific order as does anyone with a type A personality.  Don't act like I'm the only weirdo out there, I know all of you type A's are secretly thinking of your particular shower order as you read this.) Anyway, I had just gotten to the hair part and Put a nice dollop of shampoo in my hand with which I fully intended to scrub my scalp. (This is where things get ugly)

I remember lifting my right hand up toward my head when all at once I felt what can only be described as an intense and literally blinding pain shoot through my right eyeball.  While my vocal chords were straining with a blood curdling scream of pain (it went something along the lines of, "grrraaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh, oh God, oh God, please help me, aaaaaarrrrrrhhhhhh") my brain, scrambling to process what just happened, realized I had just dropped that entire dollop of shampoo into my eyeball. 

Eyes closed I threw myself against the tile wall of the shower for support while trying to force my eye open.  The pain was like a thousand paper knives slicing tiny paper cuts onto my eyeball while a giant lemon squeezed itself over my bare cornea.  I couldn't make my eyelids open. While trying to force my eyeball open I started yelling and whimpering all at once, "Oh, God what am I going to do?  I can't see, I can't see!! Oh Lord, it hurts so bad, it hurts so bad. Okay, Laura just breathe, your okay, it's going to be okay, just breathe.  Aaaaaahhhhhhh I hurts so bad, Oh God it hurts so bad!!"

In my mind I vaguely remembered my mother trying to rinse something out of my eye once and my reaction being somewhat similar.  Her voice rang somewhere in my head, "Laura if you don't rinse it out it's just going to hurt worse and worse.  You have to rinse it."  With my left eye opened I looked at the water blasting out of the shower head in front of me.  The terror I felt at the thought of holding my eye open under that deluge made me more sick than the shooting pain through my eyeball.  You have to understand, this shower is not typical.  The water pressure coming out of this shower is almost enough to blast the hair right off your legs for you.  Typically I keep myself moving around as I shower because the pressure is so high that to stand in one spot for too long would be asking for a surface abrasion on whatever part of your body was unfortunate enough to be subjected to your foolish stillness.  Knowing the pain this water pressure can cause on my skin I was less than excited at the prospect of opening my eyeball so it could be blasted by the liquid needles flying out at me.  But....I knew it had to be done.

Taking a deep breath I raised my face and felt the blades of water sear my skin as I slowly pried my eyelids apart. "Aaaaaahhhhhhhhh, it hurts so bad!" I screamed as I slammed my eyeball shut again.  Unfortunately shutting the eye hurt just as badly and I quickly peeled it back open yelling, "My eye, my eye it hurts so bad!!!"

Six times I went through this process trying to rinse all the shampoo out.  Halfway through I felt something on my upper lip that I thought was soap lingering on my face.  As I reached up to wipe it off I realized it was snot pouring out of my nose almost as quickly as the water was pouring into my eye. "Uuuuggggghhhhh gross, what the thunder is going on?" All I could think was the water was running right behind my eyeball and washing out my sinus cavity.  As if being blinded wasn't bad enough, now I had to be all gross and snotty on top of it?!  Was there no end to this horrendous episode?  Was I going to trip and knock myself out next?  Seriously!

After about six torturous washes under the shower I tested my eye out and found I could actually control my eyelids on their own and had a partially blurred view of the shower wall.  Good enough to stop with the water torture.  I quickly rinsed the last of the snot off my face and slowly, carefully finished my shower and got myself ready for the day.  As I looked into the mirror before heading out of the locker room I saw my eyeball was a beautiful red splotch that seemed to scream at everyone who might give it a second look, "She did this to me, she tried to kill me!".  Silently I wondered if the blurriness would go away as the day went on or if I would need to make a visit to the optometrist.  Thankfully I did not have to seek medical attention.

What is the point of this long, winding and embarrassing story?  Well, let my woes be a lesson to you.  When you are putting shampoo in your hair, you should keep your eyes closed.  And for the sake of your eyeballs....check your water pressure people, check your water pressure.