Seeking Freedom

One step forward, two steps back

Why do I land in the same place I started?

Striving, journeying, reaching

Then like stepping on a slippery rock

I am back here again, Lord

Consumed sometimes by what holds me--

Caught in busyness and petty things that don't matter.

Held back by difficult choices, expended by discontent

Trapped by bitterness or resentment I still hold instead of releasing

Still, after all this time, that seed of unworthiness

Rears its ugly head as if I've never grown past the wounds

And, yet, they are just seeds that need to be surrendered

To the deeper faith that shines, even if only a glimmer at times

The perfect love I've accepted from You drives out fear

Teach me to live what I know firmly, but cannot see

And to sit patiently in that abiding faith with great trust

Because I know you hold my hand and hold me up

I am nothing without You, and I am reminded

True freedom can only come through you

Your faithfulness, like a soothing spring rain

Renewing and refreshing my soul

Ever deepening my resolve to honor you:

Loving unconditionally

Forgiving completely

Remembering wholly

The gift of the cross

Still on the journey

And grateful to belong to You

Finding what I seek:

Freedom.

REAL FAMILIES

Our team loves your style of writing and how you quickly tie in the spiritual to the story you are telling. Unfortunately, we are looking for stories about "real families" -- meaning families that have not experienced divorce. We aren't at this time interested in stories about single parent families, since we encourage the sanctity of marriage.

This is part of a letter I received this week, as I've begun to more earnestly submit my writing for publication. As I read the first line I was excited: "Cool, they like my writing!" Then as I read on, I felt like a brick was hurled at me full-force and words of the moment felt soul-crushing.

The Sanctity of Marriage

As I've thought through and prayed through this unexpected letter and it's strong message, there were perspectives that I felt needed to be expressed, not defensively, but from the perspective of this single mom.

I'm going to start at the end: We encourage the sanctity of marriage. "Me too! Me too!" I wanted to scream. I've thought about my experience a few times of thoughtless people who would say things like: "You're divorced, you don't care about marriage." Or "You're lucky, you got rid of your husband." I remember those stinging words, and at the time, I wasn't quick enough to respond, but I've really thought about the subject. But being divorced doesn't mean I don't believe in marriage, or honor it deeply. In fact, the loss of my marriage remains the biggest hole in my heart. Well, probably larger is the loss my children have felt through divorce. But the breaking of vows, the devastation that divorce brings, isn't something I recommend!

The care and love, the commitment and honor, the respect and dignity of a healthy marriage are things I still long for deeply. I also believe that I make a concerted effort to encourage my friends and family in their own marriages. What a beautiful gift from God that bond is! I love attending a wedding and hearing the words: "What God has joined together, let no one separate." I am grateful to be part of a family (I'm one of five children), with two parents ready to celebrate their 55th wedding anniversary in a few weeks. My parents' love for each other through every joy and sorrow in life is an absolute beautiful gift. I feel blessed that my brother and sisters each chose a mate that honors their marriage, that shows love and compassion and unions that are Christ-centered. I'm grateful for all my friends that have strong marriages that are God-honoring and a foundation of joy. And I'm not viewing it through rose-colored glasses. I understand full-well the give and take, the "I better hold my tongue", the "will we ever be out of this valley", the sacrifices, the "speaking the truth in love" moments, the hard work a good marriage takes. But, with all my heart I honor marriage.

Real Families

Early on in our divorce I remember a specific moment that changed my perspective. My children who were probably 8 and 5 were spending the night with their father. My oldest son forgot something he needed for school and I had gone to their father and step mother's home to drop it off. As I walked up on the porch I the door was open and I could see they were all sitting down for dinner: Their dad, step-mom, my children and their step-brother. As I gazed on the scene as an outsider, it was like I was looking in on a perfect family. How my heart sunk--looking in on the laughter, teasing, enjoying the meal. "The perfect looking family, " I thought. I began to think about what God thought when he looked in on my family. It surely wasn't perfect looking (and of course, the reality is that looks are deceiving).

I began to realize that even if I perceived we were "broken", through God's amazing grace my sons and I were building something together that was a foundation honest and real and truthful. And with God at the center, I knew the family we experienced--even if it didn't look like to the outside world--was as authentic as it could be. I won't tell you that being a single parent was easy -- it was and is the most challenging job I've ever had. But, it is also the most rewarding and the most precious gift.

And that night, God showed me He would be my partner in our circumstance, and He has never, never, never disappointed me. During this time one of the best books I read was called, "Breaking and Mending" by Mary Lou Redding. In it, she described memorizing Paul's letters, so I decided to begin journaling on the letter of Colossians. I began to know in a very, very deep way as I meditated and prayed, that the only way I was truly complete, was in Christ. Nothing else I was defining myself by: being a wife, a mother, a worker, a friend, a sister, a daughter--would give me the completion within myself I desired. Christ alone was what I needed. I remember the opening of heart and flood of tears when I finally grasped that knowledge.

What a an honor and blessing that God has given me so many people on this journey of life. But it is not my roles or relationships that define me. My identity in Christ is the only identity that is completely secure, the identity that can never be taken from us, and it is the source of our wholeness. It is a journey and I'm still traveling the path. But by God's grace, I am confident I am "in Christ" and that's where I find my worth. And, I am bathed in God's amazing grace, I am certain I am living a life that is truly authentic. And when I recall all the the brokenness of the past, I can also see the beauty of all the love and forgiveness woven into our lives. In my view, that makes all of our lives pretty real.

Ever since I began the journey of being a single parent, God has put people in my life who have experienced what the same road, or similar. They were gifts to me on the journey and provided me a soundingboard, deep spiritual friendships and practical support. God has continued that this past year as I was part of a leading a single moms group. There were women who had adopted children, women going through divorce (at all stages of the grief process). All the women that I have known, as they shared their stories, have given me such fortitude and hope. And I do believe that being a single parent takes a great deal of courage and strength. I also believe that, for me, I know that kind of strength is not my own, but comes from a loving God, who pours out His amazing grace on us. He takes us from the darkness to the light to become His lights. That is about as real as it gets.

The Doll House

A replica of our own farm house

Built so carefully and lovingly

By my father when we were young

A mind's eye view into the wonder

That was part of my precious childhood

It was life-size and plenty big for all of us

To play and create and plan and dream

I can smell the smells of the lilac outside the door

And hear the voices of my sisters and I playing there

Encountering elation and bliss in each moment

As we directed and played and became

Nurturing our dolls tenderly there

And setting the table carefully

Eating treasures from the vegetable garden

Imagining, conceiving, creating, envisioning

Unaware we were also nurturing each other's souls

Filled with each scenaios our inventive, artistic minds would hold

Taking walks to the creek to pick delicate Queen Anne's Lace

And dye them beautiful colors of violet and pink and yellow

To decorate our tiny home away from home

Cultivating, encouraging, developing deeper things

It was magical, enchanting special place--

Set on the bigger backdrop of the farm that we all loved--

With its mystery and beauty in the expansive fields

The escapades to the creek, the luscious gardens and green grass

Even now I am in awe of the beauty, the gift, the journey

All the dreams captured

All the hearts filled

All the twinkling eyes

All the promises

All the possibilities

All the precious wonder...

Brought to life in the Doll House

The Old Swimming Hole

Down the incline of dirt

Back to the haven of childhood

A magnificent oak tree towering up to the sky

Where I lean to see the strong current of the creek

Closing my eyes tightly I listen

To the rippling of the water

And to the chirping of tree toads

And birds singing their haunting tunes

The quiet calm comes over me again

As I recognize the smells that still come alive--

Of earth and clay, of fish that find their home there

Of wild honeysuckle and sweet johnny jump-ups

And as I let the surrondings take me back in my memory

I hear the sweet sound of girls' giggles as they play--

Wading through the cold, clear water on a summer's day

Jumping from the vine ropes of the trees to make a splash

"Who can swim the farthest?"

"Who can make the biggest splash?"

"Who can dive or jump into the deepest part?"

"Who is brave enough to swim over the dam?"

Memories now flooding, and the tears stream down my face

The joys of a childhood so simple, filled with such joy and beauty

The years have slipped through my fingertips

Like the wildflowers and strawberries collected as a prize

A cherished and treasured place, where dreams are never too big to dream

Where sisters become friends and bonds are made never to break

Part of the sanctuary of growing up on that old farm loved so dearly

Found in the refuge, the strength, the shelter...of the old swimming hole

Special Place

I go to the special place again

Closing my eyes, opening my heart

Taking in the surroundings

Finding my solace there

I smell the sweetness of the wildflowers

And feel the velvet of the soft grass

The whisper the forest breeze

Brushes a calm over me

I hear the trickle of the stream

And the birds singing in the tall trees

I see the beauty of creation

Drawing me gently home

A little cove at my childhood farm

Where I go in my memory for peace

A reminder of a simpler place and time

Yet still the very thought brings me tranquility

A little girl's secret hideout

To dream big dreams

To be enveloped in God's creation

To feel a sense of belonging to something greater

And when a woman now recalls

The splendor of that special place

She is brought back again

Finding refreshment and renewal

She recalls the lessons brought to life

Where she met God and he molded her

And reminds her that the joyful girl is still alive

Inside of her heart and at the depth of her soul

That special place, though no longer mine

Still brought to life in my thoughts and dreams

Giving me strength through sensing God's presence

Transformed into the girl filled with wonder and hope

LONGING FOR HOME

When I think of "home", one memory that comes to mind is the family farm where I grew up (in Allentown, NJ). I got to be on vacation last week at the beach with most of the family that I grew up with. I loved the farm when I was growing up, but when my parents moved from there several years ago is when I really began to appreciate it's beauty--the farmhouse, which was like a palace to me, the incredible gardens, the fields, the creek. It is so much a part of who I am. And as I grow and learn on my faith journey, that place--and specifically the bonds that were formed, the love that grew and flourished remind me that in many ways my authentic self, is that little girl with wide eyes of wonder and a quiet curiosity.

Over the next weeks, I'm going to share some poems I wrote a few years ago which are memories of that place, along with some I've written recently about how that beginning shaped me. I hope you enjoy taking the journey with me.

THE STORIES THE ASH TREE COULD TELL

If the ash tree could talk of all the secrets told there
Of who loved who and heartbreak, pain and tears
Of joyful laughter, of stories imagined, then sweetly shared
The solace and peace of the arms that held each heart

Climbing up to the top, or sitting on the lowest limb

Or sprawled beneath the lush shade of that old friend

Where dreams were dreamed and promises kept

Where shouts of glee met quiet whispers in the night

Watching a family grow from toddler to grown

Of baseball, soccer and football games observed

Cheered each one by quietly waving the might branches

Leaves rustling in the word or catching a foul ball in his trunk

Hearing the explicit plan of each escapade to the creek

Who would build the raft, or race through cattails

Could a fort be built in the brush by the water?

Who would take the first sled ride down the hill?

Sharing the delight, then watching as each found a life of their own

Leaving...one by one...to explore new lands, bigger adventures

Yet knowing that his robust arms embrace each one well

Provided a strong foundation where values were born and lived

For just as he provided deep and loving protection from the world

His wisdom standing firm, yet giving room to grow and take flight

So that when the winds blow, the waves crash, the storm gathers

The roots and beauty of the tree dig in deeper, nurture more strongly

Revealing the splendor of the family he embraced for so long

His charge complete as the love that stands the test of time

Made a difference in the strength, depth and understanding of each one...
Oh the stories the ash tree could tell

THE SHOP

To My Hero, My Dad

I can still smell the smell

And hear the sounds

Of sawdust and oil

Of saws and hammers

The haven of my hero

Working intently

To fix something

Or to create something new

With precision and pride

Teaching what it was

To bring to life

A carefully laid plan

Still, I see the old jars and cans

Filled with every size nut and bolt

The chill of the workshop

Yet the warmth and peace of it

The smell of his pipe

The twinkle of his eye

The touch of his hardworking hands

The glow of him warm and bright smile

I can still see him standing there

Beginning the creation, working diligently

Passing wisdom from children to grandchildren--

The character of the man shining through

Stepping Stones

So sure that is the really big truths that matter
The grandiose, the lovely, the powerful
Until God gives me a new view to ponder
And I realize that each moment, each breath
Is a path to new life, to freedom, to truth

Parenting teenagers is a bit like that
Letting go, seeing mistakes being made
And then suddently, sweetly seeing
One step at a time, the light appear

From the darkness, a glimmer, a glimpse
Like the dawn of a new day the light
Just like the depths of my own soul
Where I have kept pain or hurt alive
Instead of letting go to move to healing

As God reveals Himself in new ways
I am blessed to know
His mercies are new every morning
Each stepping stone on the path
A gift I had not expected

Each day a new opportunity
To experience God's amazing grace
One breath at a time
One moment, one glimpse, one smile

Each precious stepping stone
The reminder of
The way, the truth, the life
And am left again, in awe