January 20, 2015

Keep Believing

I remember the point when I switched from hopeful to “that’s it.”

The clock was ticking away when my hometown Seattle Seahawks finally got a breakthrough touchdown after being scoreless the entire first half. Hope would rise then fall with each possession, crushed after an interception with five minutes left. When the clock hit 4:53 I remember my brain switching to “That’s it. It’s over. We won’t be going to the Super Bowl.” I succumbed to defeat. For weeks I had been hopeful. There was no way now they could break through with only minutes left. Our entire family slumped silently in their chairs, past the point of believing anymore. It was over.

And then it happened.

The impossible happened after 56 minutes of bad breaks and dropped balls and interceptions and failed passes. In less than four minutes, everything changed. Russell Wilson’s one-yard run into the end zone. An onside kick recovery by Chris Matthews. Marshawn Lynch’s 24 yard ramble into the end zone. Luke Wilson’s lunge for a 2 point conversion. The clock that earlier seemed to tick away the death of a championship took a pendulum swing. A 16- point halftime deficit was now a 22-19 lead with less than a minute left. The Green Bay Packers 48 yard field goal sent them into overtime and our family and every other Seahawk fan into anticipatory mayhem.

In their first OT possession, my hometown favorite, Jermaine Kerse, caught the impossible 35 yard pass up the middle to win the game. I screamed. We all screamed. We jumped, we hugged, we high fived. My Floridian born son ran into the Utah snow to make victory snow angels.

When it was over, Russell Wilson, who earlier had not been the quarterback he had been the past games leading to the NFC championship, was in tears in the immediate post game interview. Fox News analyst Erin Andrews asked him, “What are you thinking at this time?” His first response:

“God is so good, man, all the time, every time.”

When we had all been on the edge of our seats, of our nerves, those last minutes, this leader never stopped believing.

His credits: teamwork, fight, patience and trust.

And we continue to revel in the highlights, to play them over and over in our minds, this crazy victory that lifts our spirits and encourages us to keep believing against all odds.

To trust in those around us, to build a team that will believe and support you and back you and play their part at the right time even when the situation looks impossible.

To keep our head on, to lean into it and push forward, like Marshawn Lynch, even when life bulldozes us and people pile on us and hang on us and make demands and we feel we can’t take another step.

To stay patient, even when we have dropped the ball many times in key situations, like my Lakes High School alma mater alum Jermaine Kearse, who after multiple missed opportunities caught the game winning pass in overtime.

To see the emotion, the brokenness of these 250+ lb grown men after such a comeback victory was at once humbling and powerful, as well as the hurt and pain of the Packers, whose victory was within reach, the tension of victory and defeat a thin line drawn between them.

After all of it, kneeling on the field with the team in prayer, the response of the quarterback who led them through a grueling mano a mano match those last minutes, Russell Wilson,

“God is good all the time…….he prepared us for this….

In this season of resolutions and hope in a new year, it is timely to witness a victory like this.

One that keeps you on the edge when minutes are ticking away, when every moment counts. when every move and every play is crucial

and every effort, whether successful or not, is thrown out there.

When heart and soul is put on the line, knowing there will be victory and there will be loss

and fear will not hold you from the prospect of the latter.

For the fight is worth it all, to take hold of a moment that did not seem possible only seconds earlier

pushing through failed efforts, disappointment, pain, negative odds to be a part of something bigger than you ever dreamed.

Photo credits: Seahawks.com, Daniel Mogg, Kiro-TV.com

November 17, 2014

standing the test of time

It is a perfect autumn day. The late afternoon sun casts a golden glow on the southern plantation bathed in fall colors. A single giant oak stands as the altar for the young couple that will be joined in marriage on this day. The gathering of family and friends stand as the beautiful young bride crosses the field on the arm of her father towards the young man that will become her husband. The afternoon sunbeams reflect her smile as she approaches her groom beneath the towering oak that has stood the test of time.

It is fitting that this couple should be joined together under this oak, for as the first Psalm promises, their promises to each other today are based on their own delight in each other and in the law of The Lord. And His blessing on this day permeates the entire ceremony and celebration that follows. For who cannot help but celebrate this love that exudes promise and hope, completeness and joy.

Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor stands in the path of sinners, nor sits in the seat of the scornful; But His delight is the law of The Lord, and in His law he meditates day and night. He shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that brings forth its fruit in its season, whose leaf also shall not wither; And whatever he does shall prosper.
Psalm 1:1-3

My firstborn son stands at the altar beside the groom and his brothers. They have been best friends since they were two years old. And yes both young men have had life and limb shaken up at times in their 23 years of life together. They have buried awkward moments, and now branch out to begin careers that travel in different directions. But their steadfastness of friendship and faith stand as firm as the oak they stand under as this young man makes the biggest commitment of his life.

Earlier that morning my son jokes about hitting his first home run off the groom on the pitcher’s mound in Little League. Now he laughs at how the nervous young groom paces back and forth, taking deep breaths moments before the ceremony. Later my son turns to me with a smile, saying he has never seen his friend so happy.

These shared moments of laughter and commitment branch out into this gathering of friends surrounding this family. For during the time that these two young men built a friendship over legos and big wheels so did their mothers forge a lasting friendship over playdates and Happy Meals. The circle of families that bond on this first of many upcoming wedding days span 23 years of friendship, compile 135 years of marriage, and fifteen children. We have stood shoulder to shoulder in the delivery room of our babies and at the gravesite of our loved ones. We have clapped at preschool programs and applauded college acceptance letters. We have consulted about high school dating and about the best ways to care for aging parents. We have cheered at little league games and dance recitals. We have logged late nights of tragedies and tears and episodes of Downton Abbey. We have brought each other casseroles and chocolate at just the right time. We have studied God’s Word together.

My prayer for this young couple is that they too will have friendships that stand firm in times of fruitfulness and abundance and as well of times of withering and loss when all we want to do is shrivel up and shrink away.

In coming years I hope in times of celebration our kids will continue to shout out and jump together for joy as they have on the dance floor this evening. When times are darker and colder than this freezing southern night I hope they warm and comfort each other with words of encouragement.

At the end of the celebration the young couple run into the darkness under an arch of sparklers. Friends and brothers hoop and holler out as they venture into their new life together as man and wife. As they huddle together on this night of promise may this group of lifelong companions be the next generation of light and love in a world that yearns for more….

Go out into the world uncorrupted, a breath of fresh air in this squalid and polluted society. Provide people with a glimpse of good living and of the living God. Carry the light-giving message into the night……
Philippians 2:16, the Message

April 25, 2014

Things made new

Birth days.

Days to celebrate life.

Life that gives hope and promise and new beginnings.

Life born out of pain and received in joy and love

Three birth days celebrated in past weeks– my daughter’s sixteenth, my joy, my heart,

born sixteen years ago out of intense labor pain

the same pain my mother bore for me.

My mother’s 90th birthday celebrated days later

and a few days after that,

the most joyous of days to celebrate new birth born out of pain… Easter.

On Easter morning we sing this song ,a song that embraces the beauty born out of pain:

All this pain

I wonder if I’ll ever find my way

I wonder if my life could really change at all

All this earth

Could all that is lost ever be found

Could a garden come up from this ground at all

You make beautiful things You make beautiful things out of the dust

You make beautiful things You make beautiful things out of us

–-Beautiful Things by Gungor

Life

In its hard barren things that we come across

buried under daily happenings

grief, sorrow, isolation, loneliness,

somehow out of these broken things

in this dust a garden arises

strength

hope

gratefulness

perspective

joy

Out of chaos life is being found in you….

After a week of creative chaos

celebratory chaos–

Two milestone birthdays and Easter–

all reasons to celebrate life…

life at the beach celebrating sixteen year old wonders… life around balloons and birthday cake celebrating the wonder of turning 90… life around the table celebrating the wonder of eternal life on resurrection Sunday

… the chain of worry, of planning, controlling, perfecting is broken by the cross on Easter.

The joy of life replaces darkness.

The light of love shatters all, breaks the hold that daily worries and fears have over me. Symbols of new life were placed around the house–

flowers

balloons

bread broken on Holy Thursday

thorns

a cross from Jerusalem

a painting of an olive tree in Gethsemane Do these symbols that take a place in my home take place in my heart?

When I share the broken bread with each of my children, I remember the broken places in my heart–

the places that watch my mom diminish from Alzheimer’s

the places of her failing life chipping away at mine

the places that slowly ebb away at my life that could render me drowning in sorrow

until I choose to remember that out of pain comes something new.

Could all that is lost ever be found

Could a garden come up from this ground at all Mom’s memories are becoming lost. At times she struggles to remember our names. She could not comprehend it was her birthday. She did not know she was 90. Yet the things that are lost are replaced with a joy in the moment. In beauty in each moment. In complete and wondrous joy in the bouquet of flowers I brought to her on her birthday. In the the joy of hearing the sentiments of loved ones I read to her from Facebook wishing her a happy birthday. In singing “Happy Birthday to Me” as she blew candles from a cake as her caregivers and family friends gathered around her.

Mom loves gardens. She loves flowers. In her brief walks around the neighborhood she loves to study the different flowers and comment how beautiful they are. Though much is lost, much is found in the beauty in each moment that she chooses to see. In the color of the flowers. In the sound of music played on piano keys. In the faces of her grandchildren. And on Easter, when we sing this song of new life, of things being made new, made beautiful out of dust

its words are a balm to my parched soul, weary of this journey.

For all of us are being made new in these lessons of caregiving of walking daily with someone who lives only in the present and only sees the good, the beautiful in each moment.

Life in the middle–

now the mother of a sixteen year old daughter

and the daughter of a ninety year old mother

in the midst of adolescent giggles and ninety year old stubbornness

there is beauty and things are being made new.

Places we are marked are the places that allow us to touch others. Pain carves deep etchings into our soul places marked by loss, hurt, places we did not expect to be.

I did not expect this this place of mothering my mother at the same time mothering my daughter, this place where I savor the quiet moments of sharing secrets once shared with my own mother

secrets about love, about being loved, about being comfortable in your own skin about loving yourself fully so that you can love others fully

secrets my mother may have never communicated verbally but demonstrated daily.

Hope is springing up from this old ground…

You make me new, You are making me new

You make me new, You are making me new I don’t comprehend all the things I am learning from this journey

Each day I am weary from the length and its constant presence. But along this old ground, this path I’ve trod for years

I look for places where hope springs up…

A sweet smile, a tender hug, a “thank you for taking care of me”…

and I am made new.

November 18, 2013

seconds measured

47.4 seconds.
That is my son’s best time in the 100 yard freestyle, the time he just swam at the 4A Florida State High School meet last Saturday.

47.4 seconds.
a time when each breath was intentional
each stroke intentional
each kick intentional

47.4 seconds
not just halfway, but all out. Each stroke and breath all out, pushing to the limit, pushing past weariness and pain, driving body past barriers until he touched the wall to finish.

There was a flurry of movement all around as surrounding athletes pushed limits through resistance, water, to record best times, driving at All- American speeds: 44 seconds, 45 seconds 46 seconds.

Behind those seconds are hours and hours of work. Miles and miles of yardage logged to get the speed, endurance to be able to charge through those few seconds all out.

Hours put in early when the moon and stars still fill the sky.
Hours put in in pouring rain and cold temperatures.

Swimming ….a truly inspirational sport, one of true discipline
as the one standing on the blocks, poised to move forward, every muscle tensed, anticipating the start
is the only one who knows the preparation, the hours and yards and conditions endured to ready himself for that brief race.

I have fought the good fight, I have stayed the course, I have finished the race….2 Timothy 4:7

It is the last push that determines the winner.
The last reach, the last stroke head down
lungs bursting
arms burning
legs burning
in the final reach for the wall.
The final time.

The glance at the clock that records time is only a measure of the discipline and perseverance endured to reach that mark of 47.4 seconds.

In our own moments, we endure those seconds of push in life where we are beyond ourselves
grinding through resistance, the churning waters that surround, laboring past the pain and weariness

that place beyond ourselves that is glorious and exhausting

that place where we can help another
or bring a smile to a face by a simple act of kindness
or see a terminal situation in a new light, though the situation has not changed

those are moments of glory.

Psalm 89:17 says, “For you are the glory of their strength.”

These are the moments, lasting a bit longer or shorter than 47 seconds, that inspire us through the hard places,

These moments of inspiration push us to look beyond the pain to reach for something greater to better ourselves, or even greater, to better someone else.

There is great gain in launching into deep waters. In going beyond limits to do something impossible or unattainable. And whether or not that thing is attained or just beyond grasp there is victory in the trying, in the drive to get to wall to the place beyond your limit. To bring you beyond yourself into the unknown. To places beyond borders.

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever you would find me

“Oceans” by Hillsong

We become tired and weary of the places we are called to go, determined by choice or by circumstance…to care for the widow, the orphan, to be the single mom, to juggle the finances, to walk with cancer.

We think we can’t propel past the pain and weariness to move forward, one motion at a time, one stroke at a time, one kick at a time.

Somewhere deep in our soul, we find the guts to move on. Faith gives us the push to move forward.

Triumph comes not in the time or the medal or the accolade because most of the time there is none. Triumph comes in the strength attained that often times unknowingly inspires another to find the same.

seaglasslife

life, laughter, joy, sorrow all tumbled into one

endurance

Keep Believing

standing the test of time

Things made new

seconds measured