Same Kind as Us-Rick & Kay Warren!!!

I shed tears when I heard of Pastor Rick Warren's son's death.  It hit (far too close to) home.

Mental health is a huge issue in these United States...and unfortunately, many who suffer from it, suffer always.  Or for a long time.

The medicine helps.  But 'they' don't like to take it. 'They' like the highs and love fixing the lows themselves - with alcohol, drugs, dramatic behavior and/or rages.

I really feel for Pastor Rick and his lovely wife who are returning to the pulpit this weekend. Their interview is candid and shouts truth.  I'm with 'em.  I need to talk to them.  Really.

Most days I'm the optimist - and can see the glass full.  Not half full; but FULL.  However, I do have my days when I crash and burn. This afternoon is one.

You see, we have a son.  One who suffers from mental illness and who is currently choosing NOT to  heed his doctor's Rx. He thinks life is grand - and that WOULD be the grandiosity that is part and parcel of his illness - below is the def of grandiose in 'shrink-lingo.'

...having an exaggerated belief in one's importance, sometimes reaching delusional proportions, and occurring as a common symptom of mental illnesses, as manic disorder.

I may be too tired to express the depth of my worn-outness (like that word??) on this day....after watching #2 Son 15+ years. Other days I handle it like a champ.  But not today.  

My friend has a son seven years older than ours who could be our son's twin brother. They've lived through this stuff even longer.   I have to wonder-----Lord, how long?  How long can he go on like this?  How long will he survive?  What will become of him? So, I know two stories well.  There are so many others.

Thank goodness, the Warrens will use their tragedy for good.  Aren't we supposed to do that?  

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Streams in the Desert

August 2

"I will make all my mountains a way."  - Isaiah 49:11

God will make obstacles serve His purposes. 

We all have mountains in our lives. 

There are people and things that threaten to bar our progress in the divine life. 

These are the very conditions of achievement; they have been put into our lives as the means

to the very graces and virtues for which we have been praying so long.

Meet thy trials in Him.

They are HIS mountains.

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May I be real?  I am bone-weary from mountain climbing.  Worn to a nub.  This day.

And yet...I know that tomorrow brings hope - and Greek hope is THE best kind of hope.  Please pray for the Warrens.  Pray their congregation 'hears' their hearts and loves them unconditionally.  There has already been a book entitled "Same Kind of Different as Me" - but me and the Warrens could be Volume II.

If you'd like, you may pray for us as well. We cry-rage-stew-pout-pray-love-cuddle-adore and pray.  

I need to focus on the praying.

Thanks for lending an ear...

If I got a tattoo...

I'm taking the lead from Privet and Holly - and looking back over the past 45 days.  If you do not know of her blog, GO!  She writes so very beautifully!

In these past 45 days, my heart has broken then healed, shattered a couple more times, then filled to the brim with joy.  No matter the state I am in, I have HOPE.  I've always been a hopeful gal.  And, I've learned a new meaning of that word.  We say it often and frivolously.  Ya know - we can almost replace it with "I wish."  The dictionary definition is quite different from the Biblical def.    I have to thank a young "wordy" friend who told me about the Greek meaning.  It's deep, rich and profound - to me.

Hope (the New Testament meaning) - is an absolute.  It's the Greek word "elpis" which means "to expect or anticipate with pleasure."

Try using hope in a sentence.  Or in a prayer.  Then, replace that word with "I expect with pleasure..." Oh, my - doesn't that make you giddy!?  I almost wish I was a tattoo girl.  I would get "elpis" inked on the inside of my wrist.  But, I'm not, so I won't.

And, though, life is never dull around here, it's very often full of hope.  I expect with confidence and pleasure that God is taking care of my sons.  I thank Him that He's got them in His hands; and I can take mine off.  They are buried deep within my heart; and the apron strings are cut. (I never liked aprons any-hoo).

I am blessed to have a great support system - prayer partners, friends who listen, wise counsel...and their hope is oh so tangible and soothing.

Maybe your hope is bolder. I certainly anticipate with pleasure that it is!

Here's to {Greek} hope, everlasting!



  

No Average Joe!

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There lay my treasured CDs next to the rap trash of #2 son.  A favorite pearl necklace was strewn over the highway and close by, evidence.  Evidence of a dark life, and not what a Mom wants to see.

The contents of the car had exploded all over the highway after rolling two times, ending upside down. The car is totaled. Yet he is absolutely fine.  He punched the air bag and climbed out of the window.  Superman?  No.  Just a man.  A young man whose life has been spared far more than the Average Joe.  

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I am grateful he’s not hurt, physically.  No broken bones.  No blood in sight.  But, his spirit appears broken!   This latest hurdle might crush the Average Joe; but I’ve accepted and thanked God that I am not average.  I am uniquely made to be his Mom and have beyond-average strength and perseverance.

Praise.  I have to praise God that HE is with me to do this thing.  Trust.  I have to trust God that HE has this boy covered. 

The Average Joe hasn’t been within a block of where our boy is now paying the consequence.  Again, he’s not average.  He, too, is uniquely made.  God made him…God knows him.  God loves him.  I love him.

I’m floundering with this concept: as I live life…biblically….that is: give my yoke to the Lord, let go, let God, give my son to Him, have the joy of the Lord, be thankful in ALL,  how can I reconcile the daily routine of my boy?  He sits in such a dank, dark, disgusting place while I have everything I want or need at my fingertips.

It’s hard.  It’s really hard to be a Mom.  I think it may be extra hard to be his Mom…but again, I’m not your Average Joe.

And, so – I will thank the Lord - for He is good. He’s got me.  He’s got this thing.  He’s way ahead of me and His plans are perfect.  He’s not average either!

Of course, I had to fluff his room.  It was trashed; but not anymore.  And on his dresser, a vignette that reminds me of him and the HOPE that I cannot relinquish.

...if you would, keep our boy in your prayers. 

Country Living is the life!

I have visited the country and loved it - but it was short lived.  It was not MY place, just one to visit.   I'd be refreshed and energized from such a country visit and always see God!  Always!  I've learned that nature is my pathway to Him (have you read Gary Thomas' "Sacred Pathways?").

(view of our new place...the side/back)

We've got a God-story for you.  Our current suburban residence is the one we've been in the longest - seven years.  Two years or so ago, I knew that IF we were to move, God would need to make it obvious.

As many of my previous posts have been about #2 Son, you know we have a few struggles. He's been home since November 6, 2012 and it has not been easy.  His life is very unpredictable.  For him.  And for us.  We need some space; but not be completely removed from his life.  Solution: garage apartment; but alas, no such thing in the 'burbs.

Three weeks ago, at work (my church), I mentioned to a woman that we'd sell our house.  No, it was not even on the market. But...there was a beautiful young couple with three beautiful little girls that wanted to live in our area. They came and looked and wanted to buy it.  Bam! We needed to find that place with the garage apartment.

The picture above shows what WILL be #2 Son's garage apartment apres conversion. We are moving out....not too far, but just far enough to think of our new home as living in the country.

We've lived in ten homes in 35 years of marriage - Saudi Arabia, Denver, Ft. Worth, and seven homes in the Houston area.  Our Country Place will be #11.  And, it is THE first of all of these that feels like HOME!!!!!!!!!!!

My Guy and I did a 'drive-by' on the Friday before our appointment.  When I stood right about where this picture is taken, my eyes filled up with tears.  My {darling} Guy said: "Ya know, it looks like Connecticut."  And, that says it all.  Home.  Where I grew up.

Next day - I walk through the place.  Her Bible was open.  "Jesus Calling" was on the table and the peace that covered the property was palpable!  I was home.

Contract offered. Contract accepted. Packing has commenced. Move date is not far away...

My mind is reeling and my heart skips.  I get giddy at the thought of living here.  I feel SO blessed!!!!!!!!!  It is not grand or fancy yet I am home.

As I mentioned to friends, this place is bringing out my "East coast-Tracy Porter-Anglophile-God in nature-girl!

Dad bequethed his Barbour jacket to me when we were on a shoot in Scotland.  It was my 40th birthday and he and Libby treated me to THE trip of a lifetime!!!!

This old, well loved, well traveled jacket smells like my Dad and the thought of HIM in it and now me....well, it's just plain FUN!  I'll be traipsing around in it, you can count on it!

And now I simply must order some Wellies!

Get Your Gratitude On!

Gratitude Journal

...on the counter, by the coffee, so it cannot be missed.

Thirteen months ago I read One Thousand Gifts.  It shifted my heart and my head - and now Ann Voskamp's hauntingly, beautiful book is in the form of a Bible study.

In Vava-terms, you cannot have joy without thanksgiving.  That's the bottom line of the book.  BUT!  Don't just take my word for it. Read it.  Now.  If you have not.

Today:

1. For the beauty in an ugly barrack of #2 Son's graduation.

2. Uncle Steve's kindly demeanor toward his nephew.

3. Anticipation of movie night with My Guy.

4. A good hair day and a pretty necklace.

5. #1 Son's surprise visit.

6. Count down until November 6 (NOT the election; but the homecoming of #2 Son).

See?  My list is certainly not profound.  I passionately believe if we open our eyes and thank God for our everything(s), joy takes over.  Sometimes it's calm and quiet, sometimes a tidal wave.  I'll take either!

Life's No Cake-Walk

In retrospect...

I don't think I've ever said those words aloud until this morning.  You see, it's close to one year that #2 Son left us.  Not of his own accord, mind you.  "The Authorities" had something to do with it.  I often have 'aha' moments or thoughts of clarity while in the shower or putting on my face.  So be it, this morning.

When you consider something in retrospect, you think about it afterwards, and often have a different opinion about it from the one that you had at the time.  Well!  H-E-L-L-O, yes I do. 

On November 17, 2011, I heard:  "He BETTER learn his lesson."  "He's made his own bed, and now he has to lie in it." More comments were peppered our way - many solicited.  I am a prayer hog.  Not much is off limits for me.  Man, I was on board with the decision of the court.  He needed this program.  There really was no other choice...And, yes, he deserved it AND earned it AND needed it.

November is drawing near - and he will soon be released to us.  Am I ready?  I am.  In retrospect, it has taken these many months for HIM to submit to authority, be quiet and have lots of time to repent and think.  Same for me.

I've spent many hours journaling, in prayer, and reflecting.  It's been good - really good.  How odd that while my son, my baby, has been behind a barbed wire fence, I have been okay.  Not every day, but more often than not.   I guess you'd say there has been a calm within a my storm.  This season has been THE most difficult #2 Son has experienced.  I see it on his face when we visit.  

Just last week we were granted an hour and a half visit.  He literally did a hop-skip, giddy-jump when he spotted us.  A HUGE grin spread across that gorgeous face, and he said: "Man, it's good to see y'all.  I love you!"  We sat and talked quietly.

Toward the end of our time, his shoulders stooped a bit and he told us that he may get written up.  The good news is he wears blue - he's a "leader" and has a job.  His is in the chow hall...he dishes out the slop.  And cleans up.  

He devised a better way to clean CAKE crumbs.  Sweep said crumbs from the table into a cup.  Dump the cup.  Why am I going into so much detail about CAKE!?  Patience...

A CO walked up to him and informed him he'd be written up.  For "stealing CAKE."  Now c'mon.  There should be consequences for actions. Always.  But I believe my son for a number of reasons.  Who would want to eat disgusting CAKE crumbs???  Plus, he's a tad OCD and germ-aphobic.  Alas....he is under authority; so it's out of my hands.

We'll learn in our next letter whether the DR (Discipline Report) was dismissed.  If it was not, his 'out' date could be extended.  I can do nada on his behalf.  Except pray - which I have - and asked my prayer team to pray, that #2 Son is granted favor. 

• In retrospect, the past year has not been a CAKE walk. 
• Our son could not have his CAKE and eat it too; therefore he is where he is...
• That CO really 'takes the CAKE' when it comes to power trips.

...BUT the icing on the CAKE, will be when our boy comes home, a changed young man.  

Beautiful...

Bacon.  Perfectly cooked, crisp-to-the bite bacon.  How I love you, and did not even know it.  I've been back a week after a journey to India and have not been myself until today.  My Guy sizzled up the kitchen and I was in heaven.  The little things we {spoiled brats} Americans take for granted:

• Google
• Peanut butter
• TV
• Apples
• Water from the faucet

These are just a few of the things I soaked up after landing stateside. I'm not often word-less; but am finding it impossible to describe this adventure!  

When my pastor first invited me, my heart said 'yes,' but he sagely suggested praying about it.  Oh, and seeing what My Guy would think about it.  From the get-go, I knew I was to go.  I asked Sister Kiwanya to be my partner to speak at the women's conference.  (In India, Christians are addressed as Sister and Brother).  

Is she beautiful or what?????

Well, God certainly knew THE perfect roommate for me.  We were overwhelmed (in a GRAND way) by the hospitality, grace, and love of our Indian sisters.  Tears fell...often.  And then, in our hotel room, on the floor, laughing at night.  Just one glance of hers would set me off.  We are soul sisters, for life!  After  day 2, I felt as if I had done 2,000 sit ups, my abs hurt from laughter!  In India.  In a ummm...'hotel' of sorts, with an air conditioner that forced us to wear socks while sleeping, and our shower was just IN the bathroom.  Water, water, everywhere.  Shower shoes were a MUST!

We had been told we'd "teach" or speak to around 50 women.  I'm no pastor; but when MY pastor said, "Can you give a party?"  Well!  H-E-L-L-O, yes, I can.  That gave me license to talk from the heart.  And so did Kiwanya.  We had an interpreter.

Day 1, Patna, Bihar.  We looked out into the classroom of women in saris - so different from us.

They stared.

We shared.

We told stories of families with alcoholism, addiction issues.  Of a childhood where parents did not say "I love you."  Of single motherhood, of distant parents.  Children in trouble.  They leaned forward, and heard us.  Our very own stories...

We learned a lovely, universal gesture is placing one's hand on one's heart.  We had like hearts.  It was beautiful.  How many times can one use "beautiful?"  Any doubt of why we were there was erased after our intros.  We may never know if we TAUGHT them anything; but they loved our love!  Oh, how we enjoyed that!  They relayed to our interpreter how shocked they were that "people who look like us" have the very same issues!

Day 3.  Kiwanya turned to me and asked: "Sister Virginia, did YOU know what you wanted to do as a little girl?"  And at that moment everything made sense.  I've always surrounded myself with women, girlfriends.  I'm a "woman's woman" far more than a "man's woman!"  They give me life.

As a young girl I was drawn to families - whole families.  I invested as much time with them as possible. I loved and STILL love older women - from the Young Life leader, who was probably all of 32, to my 16.  To my two aunts and loving Mimi.  At church, I stalked a woman to get to know her.  I wanted to sit at her feet. My gaggle of girlfriends have saved me.

And, so never before had Jeremiah 29:11 made more sense.  Oh, my YES...does the Lord know the plans to prosper me, to give me hope and a future!  A year and a half ago, when Pastor Dan asked me to come to work, I nearly fell over.  Next...working in our women's ministry.  Then, a mission trip to India...speaking to WOMEN about women, being strong in the Lord!

So, no, Kiwanya, I don't think I had a grand scheme as a young girl...dreams were dashed and not nurtured.  But, the Lord saves.  And redeems.

Back to India...I can't speak for K, but when I WAS speaking, I felt gripped by the Holy Spirit (and that was a specific prayer request of mine!).  It was just so delightful to share how to do life.  It took a while for the Indian ladies to warm up, but slowly, they'd stand and tell us their needs.  Devastated were we.

Our artist friend, Hannah, made a poster of a vase that we taped to the wall.  We handed out a sticky note in the shape of a flower and each woman hand-wrote, in Hindi, her prayer request.  They LOVED the poster and it was quite a hit!  And, yes - it looked beautiful.

Now, don't think the trip was all-so-serious.  We toured the Taj Mahal.  Oh, yes we did.

Agra, India (built 1632-1653)

 Built by Mughal emperor Shah Jahan in memory of his third wife.

Widely recognized as "the jewel of Muslim art in India."

(It was stunningly beautiful).

We toured "Old Delhi" in a rickshaw.  And saw henna heads!

Our hands became works of art...

But, mostly the work was done in my HEART.  

India - I love.  

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. – Jeremiah 29:11