Restoring to new
My word for last year was restore. It was intended to be a journey, rather than a success or failure type of project. Which is a good thing, because soul restoration is something that is difficult, if not impossible, to fully measure.
Looking back, of course, 2016 was infinitely better and easier than 2015. A few minor struggles, but nothing new came along to shatter our worlds. Cannot thank the Lord enough for that. He provided a bit of normalcy, a lot of peace, and so many opportunities to grow.
Brandon lost his entire coaching staff at the end of last season and had to rebuild from scratch. Through August it was looking as if he'd have to coach varsity, JV, and B team all by himself. But God provided from some pretty unlikely places.
There were some setbacks and rather large roadblocks in place, which has made this season very challenging for Brandon so far. He began the year with his chosen mantra, "control the controllables". Turns out very little has been controllable. But his trust in the Lord is beginning to pay off. And God continues to answer my constant prayer for Brandon, offering him regular reminders that he is right where he is supposed to be.
Aden has matured in so many ways. His reading is amazing, and he doesn't even realize how much school and practicing at home has done for him. He is able, at least at school, to sit and focus and absorb what is going on. He really is a fast learner, and sharp.
He has great, great compassion for both people and things around him. He is still enthusiastic and determined as he has always been growing up, though it is more contained and directed now. He is passionate about playtime, but has also learned about commitment. We are in our third month of piano lessons, and he is doing amazing.
Trey has grown perhaps most of all, and he doesn't even fully grasp that it's happening. My sweet, anxious worrier who has shut himself completely off from the public eye since he was three years old, went to basketball camp this summer and beat rising eighth graders in a shooting contest. He got on stage, out from behind the curtain, with his class for a school performance for the first time ever this past fall. He got on stage at church for the kids' song in the Christmas cantata. And one week from today, he will step out again. More on that to come.
God is working so very hard on Trey. How I pray he will recognize the work as God's, releasing him at long last and little by little, from Satan's crippling fears.
And me? Well, for starters, I learned I can keep a commitment. I made only two resolutions last new year. One was to think about the word restore, which I'll come back to. The other was to take one photo a week for an entire year, of each of my children. And I actually did it. There are more uninteresting and blurry photos than there are good ones, and quite a few of them were taken and posted at the very last minute. But it got done.
And it made for a few more blog posts on the year, which of courses increases what we will remember of 2016 years down the road.
I blew a few recipes, dropped the ball on lots of Easter drama-related stuff, started and kept exercising, lost a dear friend, redecorated a few parts of the house on the very cheap, failed the Lord and made Him proud.
And all the while He has whispered to me, restore. I chased both the word and the concept through the Bible, and while most of the stories it led me to were already familiar, I had never looked at them in quite that way. And they're everywhere.
Abraham and Sarah, old and devastated, received a child of their own.
Ruth, lonely and hungry, becomes part of a fairy tale romance.
Nehemiah, against all odds, able to rebuild his beloved city.
Job. Lord have mercy, Job. Confused, irritated by his friends, faith solid as a rock. He got it all back and more.
Israel, growing content with their blessings, turning their backs on the Lord, crying out for help, and the Lord rescuing them. Over and over and over, amen.
Lazarus. Dead. And then alive again.
So many stories. And in every single one of them, not a shred of human hope that anything could ever be right again. No hope.
But God.
I have two favorite stories of restoration.
One is Ezekiel in the valley of dry bones. I suppose Ezekiel had seen enough in his time with the Lord to expect the unexpected. Because when God asked him if the bones could live again, Ezekiel said that only God knew. For our time, that equates to shrugging one's shoulders, shaking one's head, and sighing, "Why not?"
The bones lived. Not only did the bones live, but they became a living, breathing army of skin-covered bodies.
And the promise given? "I will put my Spirit in you and you will live." Ezekiel 37:14
It's an amazing story, and one I come back to constantly for that place of hurt in my life that seems as dead as the dry bones.
My other favorite is Peter. Bless his compulsive little heart. After speaking those God-given words of who Jesus is and receiving the promise that God's church would be built upon him, he denied knowing his Lord. Three times, immediately after which the beaten and bruised Lord looked right in his face.
He wept bitterly. As would any Christ-follower. As have probably all Christ-followers.
But Peter's story doesn't end there. In fact, it kind of begins there. The most beautiful thing about this to me is that Peter did not seek the Lord's forgiveness and blessing, even after the surprise of an empty tomb on Easter morning. He wouldn't have considered himself worthy.
But Jesus came after him. Chased him down and, after a seaside breakfast picnic, offered him the chance to start again. Peter was restored. And after he was restored, he became unstoppable.
It's so beautiful, the way the Lord works. Ruth Graham said, "He doesn't stop at ruins. It is where He begins."
What a promise. He makes all things new. Which is my chosen word for 2017:
New
The year of focusing on restoration did not leave me restored. I am carrying around with me bitterness and a deep, deep ache. Even if the source of that particular pain ends up being resolved, there will always be something to hurt over. As a reminder that this life isn't supposed to be perfect. Only in Heaven.
It will likely take Heaven to restore me fully. To restore any of us fully.
But what the year of focusing on restoration has taught me is that the abundant life Jesus spoke of is intended not only for Heaven, but for here. There will be pain. Guaranteed. But there is also joy and peace and hope. Guaranteed.
Joanna Gaines said, "If you can't find happiness in the ugliness, you're not going to find it in the beauty, either."
So new. Again, a journey instead of a pass/fail. Of course I'll chase the word all over the scriptures, knowing that God will open my eyes to things I've never seen in the old, old stories.
But I want to live new. Pumbaa from The Lion King said, "Put your past in your behind." Every day, mercy, forgiveness, opportunities to uncover joy and the love of God, and opportunities to share it in unexpected ways.
And the goal is to try one new thing each month. Not skydiving or anything like that, maybe a new recipe or a new book, some new adventure with the boys. Something to keep reminding me of the abundance this life has to offer, and that God is the God of the unexpected.
The God of hope.
Who makes all things new.
Happy New Year.
Looking back, of course, 2016 was infinitely better and easier than 2015. A few minor struggles, but nothing new came along to shatter our worlds. Cannot thank the Lord enough for that. He provided a bit of normalcy, a lot of peace, and so many opportunities to grow.
Brandon lost his entire coaching staff at the end of last season and had to rebuild from scratch. Through August it was looking as if he'd have to coach varsity, JV, and B team all by himself. But God provided from some pretty unlikely places.
There were some setbacks and rather large roadblocks in place, which has made this season very challenging for Brandon so far. He began the year with his chosen mantra, "control the controllables". Turns out very little has been controllable. But his trust in the Lord is beginning to pay off. And God continues to answer my constant prayer for Brandon, offering him regular reminders that he is right where he is supposed to be.
Aden has matured in so many ways. His reading is amazing, and he doesn't even realize how much school and practicing at home has done for him. He is able, at least at school, to sit and focus and absorb what is going on. He really is a fast learner, and sharp.
He has great, great compassion for both people and things around him. He is still enthusiastic and determined as he has always been growing up, though it is more contained and directed now. He is passionate about playtime, but has also learned about commitment. We are in our third month of piano lessons, and he is doing amazing.
Trey has grown perhaps most of all, and he doesn't even fully grasp that it's happening. My sweet, anxious worrier who has shut himself completely off from the public eye since he was three years old, went to basketball camp this summer and beat rising eighth graders in a shooting contest. He got on stage, out from behind the curtain, with his class for a school performance for the first time ever this past fall. He got on stage at church for the kids' song in the Christmas cantata. And one week from today, he will step out again. More on that to come.
God is working so very hard on Trey. How I pray he will recognize the work as God's, releasing him at long last and little by little, from Satan's crippling fears.
And me? Well, for starters, I learned I can keep a commitment. I made only two resolutions last new year. One was to think about the word restore, which I'll come back to. The other was to take one photo a week for an entire year, of each of my children. And I actually did it. There are more uninteresting and blurry photos than there are good ones, and quite a few of them were taken and posted at the very last minute. But it got done.
And it made for a few more blog posts on the year, which of courses increases what we will remember of 2016 years down the road.
I blew a few recipes, dropped the ball on lots of Easter drama-related stuff, started and kept exercising, lost a dear friend, redecorated a few parts of the house on the very cheap, failed the Lord and made Him proud.
And all the while He has whispered to me, restore. I chased both the word and the concept through the Bible, and while most of the stories it led me to were already familiar, I had never looked at them in quite that way. And they're everywhere.
Abraham and Sarah, old and devastated, received a child of their own.
Ruth, lonely and hungry, becomes part of a fairy tale romance.
Nehemiah, against all odds, able to rebuild his beloved city.
Job. Lord have mercy, Job. Confused, irritated by his friends, faith solid as a rock. He got it all back and more.
Israel, growing content with their blessings, turning their backs on the Lord, crying out for help, and the Lord rescuing them. Over and over and over, amen.
Lazarus. Dead. And then alive again.
So many stories. And in every single one of them, not a shred of human hope that anything could ever be right again. No hope.
But God.
I have two favorite stories of restoration.
One is Ezekiel in the valley of dry bones. I suppose Ezekiel had seen enough in his time with the Lord to expect the unexpected. Because when God asked him if the bones could live again, Ezekiel said that only God knew. For our time, that equates to shrugging one's shoulders, shaking one's head, and sighing, "Why not?"
The bones lived. Not only did the bones live, but they became a living, breathing army of skin-covered bodies.
And the promise given? "I will put my Spirit in you and you will live." Ezekiel 37:14
It's an amazing story, and one I come back to constantly for that place of hurt in my life that seems as dead as the dry bones.
My other favorite is Peter. Bless his compulsive little heart. After speaking those God-given words of who Jesus is and receiving the promise that God's church would be built upon him, he denied knowing his Lord. Three times, immediately after which the beaten and bruised Lord looked right in his face.
He wept bitterly. As would any Christ-follower. As have probably all Christ-followers.
But Peter's story doesn't end there. In fact, it kind of begins there. The most beautiful thing about this to me is that Peter did not seek the Lord's forgiveness and blessing, even after the surprise of an empty tomb on Easter morning. He wouldn't have considered himself worthy.
But Jesus came after him. Chased him down and, after a seaside breakfast picnic, offered him the chance to start again. Peter was restored. And after he was restored, he became unstoppable.
It's so beautiful, the way the Lord works. Ruth Graham said, "He doesn't stop at ruins. It is where He begins."
What a promise. He makes all things new. Which is my chosen word for 2017:
New
The year of focusing on restoration did not leave me restored. I am carrying around with me bitterness and a deep, deep ache. Even if the source of that particular pain ends up being resolved, there will always be something to hurt over. As a reminder that this life isn't supposed to be perfect. Only in Heaven.
It will likely take Heaven to restore me fully. To restore any of us fully.
But what the year of focusing on restoration has taught me is that the abundant life Jesus spoke of is intended not only for Heaven, but for here. There will be pain. Guaranteed. But there is also joy and peace and hope. Guaranteed.
Joanna Gaines said, "If you can't find happiness in the ugliness, you're not going to find it in the beauty, either."
So new. Again, a journey instead of a pass/fail. Of course I'll chase the word all over the scriptures, knowing that God will open my eyes to things I've never seen in the old, old stories.
But I want to live new. Pumbaa from The Lion King said, "Put your past in your behind." Every day, mercy, forgiveness, opportunities to uncover joy and the love of God, and opportunities to share it in unexpected ways.
And the goal is to try one new thing each month. Not skydiving or anything like that, maybe a new recipe or a new book, some new adventure with the boys. Something to keep reminding me of the abundance this life has to offer, and that God is the God of the unexpected.
The God of hope.
Who makes all things new.
Happy New Year.
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