***I'm pretty sure the slide show goes into an advertisement almost immediately. For my moms, when the full ad comes on, click the top right "X" and the slideshow will continue to play the rest of the pictures***
It's getting late now, and though I definitely need the sleep tonight, I also feel the need to write. If everything this week had gone according to MY plans, I would be sitting here typing about our fun trip to San Antonio Sea World with Chris' parents and sister. While it was a fun time, for me, it was overshadowed and cut a bit short when an unfortunate turn of events took place regarding my chihuahua, Ollie.
Long story short, just after dropping the dogs off at the kennel, Ollie escaped into the wooded area near the kennel. Three days of searching for him turned up nothing. While I was looking for him very early on Friday morning, Animal Control showed up and confirmed that Ollie had been hit by a car late on Thursday night.
This certainly was not the ending I had hoped for. Joining together in prayer with some of my girls, I just knew Ollie would show up and we would rejoice in God's goodness and power. How I prayed to Him, "Not unto us, but to Your name, bring glory! You parted the Sea, You walked on water, You healed the sick and raised the dead! I KNOW you can bring Ollie back! And I will proclaim, 'This is the work of my Jesus!'" What a testimony of God's power it would be to all who joined in the search for Ollie!
God had plans for a different type of testimony. A testimony not of His obvious miracle, but of His grace that meets us in whatever trial comes our way; a testimony of forgiveness extended toward those who are responsible for this loss; a testimony of His "peace which surpasses all understanding" (Phil. 4:7).
For those who don't know, I got Ollie as an intentional step toward healing when I was carrying our second baby to be lost. Ollie was something to focus on beside the grief of not being able to carry another child. I believe with all my heart that God had this particular dog saved for me for this time in my life--everything from his devotion, demeanor, even the "angel" on his chest seemed to be a perfect gift from the Lord.
Now that Ollie is no longer here, does it change my belief that God picked him just for me? Absolutely not.
Am I angry toward God about what happened? I don't think I have ever screamed so hard at Him in all my life. While we were searching for Ollie, I sat in the car in sheer frustration, screaming to Him, asking why He wouldn't just bring Ollie out. That brought on a whole new wave of anger that I had not dealt with--Why won't You let us have more children? Why did you take away my two babies? Why are You doing this to me???
Am I disappointed by God because Ollie died? Of course. I wanted to find him and proclaim the goodness of God in this. Does that change God's goodness? Of course not. But, as a human, I feel disappointed. I want Ollie here with me now.
In the car during my screaming session, I gave it ALL I had. I figured I was in the moment, why not get it all out? I screamed until my throat hurt, until my chest ached, until I couldn't form words in my mouth. Exhausted, I wept. Just wept. Not about the loss of a pet. Not even about the loss of babies. Just wept. Wept because God is doing a greater work in me than I even know. His Word tells me, "For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared BEFOREHAND that we should walk in them." (Ephesians 2:10). There is not a moment of my life that He did not already know I would walk through. Even this season of my life. He knew it before He knit me together in my mother's womb. As I wept, I felt Him meet me there. My screaming did not make my loving Father turn His back. He's good like that.
I know I must have looked to my Father much like Ethan looks to me during one of his meltdowns. Though Ethan screams and cries and begs, I as his mother know when the best answer for him is, "No. Not now. Maybe not ever." And though it hurts me to see him so miserably upset, especially when he doesn't understand my reasoning, I know what I'm doing and what my end goal is. As his tears cease and he collapses into my safe arms, I don't hold his screaming and protesting against him. Not a bit of me feels angry at him. My love encompasses him. I know my son felt anger toward me during my denial, but it could never be enough to cast out his love for me.
Our Heavenly Father is the same way. The cool thing about Him, though, is that He is perfect. I make decisions as a parent that are marred by my imperfection. Sometimes I wonder if I'm making the right decision regarding Ethan. With God, I can trust that no matter what is happening, even the crummy stuff, and especially the stuff I don't understand, "His way is perfect" (II Samuel 22:31). I looked up the word "perfect" in its original context. It means "complete". Whatever God is doing right now, it is part of His complete work. Though I don't "get it" now, someday His work will be complete in me. He is working this season of life into His complete and perfect work, not only for me personally, but also for those who touch my life.
Again, this post is not so much about the loss of my pet. While it is the catalyst for my introspection, this post is really about trials. I read somewhere that "a trial is a trial. Mine is no different than yours." Basically, we all have our battles. Mine happens to be an unfulfilled desire for more children and, now, the loss of Ollie. Everyday I hear about the trials of my friends, family, and people I've never met. One might ask how a loving and gracious God could let such disasters happen. I am reminded that we live in an imperfect world, given over to sin. Our hope is not about how good life can be on earth. Our hope is in the return of Jesus and our reunion with Him in Heaven. How glorious it will be to sing worship to Him and see for the first time how every circumstance in a Christ-believers life was all woven together into a masterpiece more beautiful than we could think or comprehend.
In light of trials, I wanted to document some absolute truths that I'm holding onto now. I know this won't be my final trial in life. God-willing, I will have a long life, and if I do, there are sure to be more opportunities for trusting in Him during hard times. Some things I've been contemplating:
Jesus said, "These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you WILL have tribulation; but take courage, I have overcome the world" (John 16:33). For those who walk with Christ, His peace should be a markable characteristic in our trials. His peace is ever present, but HIS WORDS are so important. They are the source of our hope, and as Jesus says, our peace.
"Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?....Yet in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us...
"For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Romans 8:35-39). Even when I feel like I can't see God in my trial, HE IS THERE. There is nothing, nothing...no pain, no sadness, no longing, no anger, no disappointment...that cannot touch me without having permission from my God who LOVES me and only has the best intentions for His glory in the end. When I can't see Him, I walk by faith that He is who He says He is, and when I place that faith in Him, His presence washes over me. In the midst of my sadness, His calm is there. His gentleness speaks to me. He is real. I cannot explain the very REAL presence of the living God, but it is a heavy, lifting calm that drives out fear and releases hope.
I have been singing, "I Surrender All" a lot the past two days. This song was the theme song of our wedding vows, but it has quickly become the theme song of my life. It reminds me that no matter what I've been given, it is not mine to hold onto. Every physical thing I have is HIS. Every desire I have is HIS. Every hurt I feel is HIS. When I hold these things to myself, I am weighed down by them. They do not propel me, uplift me, make me useful in any way. When I surrender all that I have and all that I am to Jesus, the One who knows all and loves me, then He can use it as a tool in my life to be a blessing to others.
Letting go is the hardest thing to do. I want to hold onto the things I love. I even want to hold onto the hurt I feel. It gives me a false sense of security when I am the one "in control". That is such a lie from the deceiver. This song reminds me that I can trust the One who gave His life for mine, and true freedom comes from true surrender.
Typing all this out has brought a sense of closure for this week. I know I will still miss Ollie, but I am choosing to surrender even this to Him, my blessed Saviour.
Long story short, just after dropping the dogs off at the kennel, Ollie escaped into the wooded area near the kennel. Three days of searching for him turned up nothing. While I was looking for him very early on Friday morning, Animal Control showed up and confirmed that Ollie had been hit by a car late on Thursday night.
This certainly was not the ending I had hoped for. Joining together in prayer with some of my girls, I just knew Ollie would show up and we would rejoice in God's goodness and power. How I prayed to Him, "Not unto us, but to Your name, bring glory! You parted the Sea, You walked on water, You healed the sick and raised the dead! I KNOW you can bring Ollie back! And I will proclaim, 'This is the work of my Jesus!'" What a testimony of God's power it would be to all who joined in the search for Ollie!
God had plans for a different type of testimony. A testimony not of His obvious miracle, but of His grace that meets us in whatever trial comes our way; a testimony of forgiveness extended toward those who are responsible for this loss; a testimony of His "peace which surpasses all understanding" (Phil. 4:7).
For those who don't know, I got Ollie as an intentional step toward healing when I was carrying our second baby to be lost. Ollie was something to focus on beside the grief of not being able to carry another child. I believe with all my heart that God had this particular dog saved for me for this time in my life--everything from his devotion, demeanor, even the "angel" on his chest seemed to be a perfect gift from the Lord.
Now that Ollie is no longer here, does it change my belief that God picked him just for me? Absolutely not.
Am I angry toward God about what happened? I don't think I have ever screamed so hard at Him in all my life. While we were searching for Ollie, I sat in the car in sheer frustration, screaming to Him, asking why He wouldn't just bring Ollie out. That brought on a whole new wave of anger that I had not dealt with--Why won't You let us have more children? Why did you take away my two babies? Why are You doing this to me???
Am I disappointed by God because Ollie died? Of course. I wanted to find him and proclaim the goodness of God in this. Does that change God's goodness? Of course not. But, as a human, I feel disappointed. I want Ollie here with me now.
In the car during my screaming session, I gave it ALL I had. I figured I was in the moment, why not get it all out? I screamed until my throat hurt, until my chest ached, until I couldn't form words in my mouth. Exhausted, I wept. Just wept. Not about the loss of a pet. Not even about the loss of babies. Just wept. Wept because God is doing a greater work in me than I even know. His Word tells me, "For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared BEFOREHAND that we should walk in them." (Ephesians 2:10). There is not a moment of my life that He did not already know I would walk through. Even this season of my life. He knew it before He knit me together in my mother's womb. As I wept, I felt Him meet me there. My screaming did not make my loving Father turn His back. He's good like that.
I know I must have looked to my Father much like Ethan looks to me during one of his meltdowns. Though Ethan screams and cries and begs, I as his mother know when the best answer for him is, "No. Not now. Maybe not ever." And though it hurts me to see him so miserably upset, especially when he doesn't understand my reasoning, I know what I'm doing and what my end goal is. As his tears cease and he collapses into my safe arms, I don't hold his screaming and protesting against him. Not a bit of me feels angry at him. My love encompasses him. I know my son felt anger toward me during my denial, but it could never be enough to cast out his love for me.
Our Heavenly Father is the same way. The cool thing about Him, though, is that He is perfect. I make decisions as a parent that are marred by my imperfection. Sometimes I wonder if I'm making the right decision regarding Ethan. With God, I can trust that no matter what is happening, even the crummy stuff, and especially the stuff I don't understand, "His way is perfect" (II Samuel 22:31). I looked up the word "perfect" in its original context. It means "complete". Whatever God is doing right now, it is part of His complete work. Though I don't "get it" now, someday His work will be complete in me. He is working this season of life into His complete and perfect work, not only for me personally, but also for those who touch my life.
Again, this post is not so much about the loss of my pet. While it is the catalyst for my introspection, this post is really about trials. I read somewhere that "a trial is a trial. Mine is no different than yours." Basically, we all have our battles. Mine happens to be an unfulfilled desire for more children and, now, the loss of Ollie. Everyday I hear about the trials of my friends, family, and people I've never met. One might ask how a loving and gracious God could let such disasters happen. I am reminded that we live in an imperfect world, given over to sin. Our hope is not about how good life can be on earth. Our hope is in the return of Jesus and our reunion with Him in Heaven. How glorious it will be to sing worship to Him and see for the first time how every circumstance in a Christ-believers life was all woven together into a masterpiece more beautiful than we could think or comprehend.
In light of trials, I wanted to document some absolute truths that I'm holding onto now. I know this won't be my final trial in life. God-willing, I will have a long life, and if I do, there are sure to be more opportunities for trusting in Him during hard times. Some things I've been contemplating:
Jesus said, "These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you WILL have tribulation; but take courage, I have overcome the world" (John 16:33). For those who walk with Christ, His peace should be a markable characteristic in our trials. His peace is ever present, but HIS WORDS are so important. They are the source of our hope, and as Jesus says, our peace.
"Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?....Yet in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us...
"For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Romans 8:35-39). Even when I feel like I can't see God in my trial, HE IS THERE. There is nothing, nothing...no pain, no sadness, no longing, no anger, no disappointment...that cannot touch me without having permission from my God who LOVES me and only has the best intentions for His glory in the end. When I can't see Him, I walk by faith that He is who He says He is, and when I place that faith in Him, His presence washes over me. In the midst of my sadness, His calm is there. His gentleness speaks to me. He is real. I cannot explain the very REAL presence of the living God, but it is a heavy, lifting calm that drives out fear and releases hope.
I have been singing, "I Surrender All" a lot the past two days. This song was the theme song of our wedding vows, but it has quickly become the theme song of my life. It reminds me that no matter what I've been given, it is not mine to hold onto. Every physical thing I have is HIS. Every desire I have is HIS. Every hurt I feel is HIS. When I hold these things to myself, I am weighed down by them. They do not propel me, uplift me, make me useful in any way. When I surrender all that I have and all that I am to Jesus, the One who knows all and loves me, then He can use it as a tool in my life to be a blessing to others.
Letting go is the hardest thing to do. I want to hold onto the things I love. I even want to hold onto the hurt I feel. It gives me a false sense of security when I am the one "in control". That is such a lie from the deceiver. This song reminds me that I can trust the One who gave His life for mine, and true freedom comes from true surrender.
Typing all this out has brought a sense of closure for this week. I know I will still miss Ollie, but I am choosing to surrender even this to Him, my blessed Saviour.
All to Jesus I surrender;
All to Him I freely give;
I will ever love and trust Him,
In His presence daily live
I surrender all,
I surrender all;
All to Thee, my blessed Savior,
I surrender all.
All to Jesus I surrender;
Humbly at His feet I bow,
Worldly pleasures all forsaken;
Take me, Jesus, take me now.
All to Jesus I surrender;
Make me, Savior, wholly Thine;
Let me feel the Holy Spirit,
Truly know that Thou art mine.
All to Jesus I surrender;
Lord, I give myself to Thee;
Fill me with Thy love and power;
Let Thy blessing fall on me.
All to Jesus I surrender;
Now I feel the sacred flame.
Oh, the joy of full salvation!
Glory, glory, to His Name!
All to Him I freely give;
I will ever love and trust Him,
In His presence daily live
I surrender all,
I surrender all;
All to Thee, my blessed Savior,
I surrender all.
All to Jesus I surrender;
Humbly at His feet I bow,
Worldly pleasures all forsaken;
Take me, Jesus, take me now.
All to Jesus I surrender;
Make me, Savior, wholly Thine;
Let me feel the Holy Spirit,
Truly know that Thou art mine.
All to Jesus I surrender;
Lord, I give myself to Thee;
Fill me with Thy love and power;
Let Thy blessing fall on me.
All to Jesus I surrender;
Now I feel the sacred flame.
Oh, the joy of full salvation!
Glory, glory, to His Name!
riously. Here he is after he fell asleep on the way home with his "Firefighter Jacket" all buttoned up:
