My baby sister is all grown up!

Saturday, my children and I spent the day at my parent's farm. Friday night was my baby sister's bridal shower. (Say what???? I know! She grew up when I wasn't looking!) We spent Friday night and most of Saturday at my parents so the children could go sledding in the snow left over from last week's storm. I reminisced about days gone by with my mother, played a new game with my grandmother, (and beat her soundly, I might add.), but my favorite part of the day, was spending time with my baby sister at the house she will live in after she marries her hunka hunka burnin love in February. We unpacked the loot she had received at her shower, washed and dried dishes, put food items away, and talked about the coming changes in her life. I wish I could say I imparted a good bit of sisterly wisdom, but I didn't really have any, as I still haven't quite figured out this whole marriage thing, and I've been doing it for a little over 12 years now! As I watched her in her new kitchen, sweeping up the floor and putting everything in its rightful place, I remembered. I remembered a baby with big eyes, looking up at me, the first time I held her almost 22 years ago. I remembered the winter we all got chicken pox and she ended up in the hospital because she was dehydrated. I remembered a little toddler running through the grass with her puppy, and laughing at their antics as they played together. I remembered that same toddler high on the milk house roof, happily eating the berries that grew from a plant that was probably poisonous, while I died a thousand deaths below. Our father was quickly summoned from milking so he could get her down. Miraculously, she seemed to suffer no ill effects from the berries or the climb up the silo that stood beside the milk house. I remembered being woken from a sound sleep in the middle of the night as she wanted a drink. And then I remembered hearing a thump and crying as she felt out of the bunk bed, waking me from yet another sound sleep... in fact the one thing I don't remember doing when she was little is sleeping... I remembered how hard it was to get her to sleep! We had a vhs documentary that explained the life cycle of plants with amazing time lapse photography. We'd turn it on, and in minutes, she'd be out. I remembered laying awake at night and whispering secrets with my younger sister, and finding out later that Amanda was only pretending to sleep. I think I may have threatened her with bodily harm if she shared with our mother. I don't know why I bothered. I usually ended up telling mom everything, anyway! I remembered so much as we worked together this morning. I remembered how old she was when I left home for the first time at 19 and she was 5. She was 6 when I came back, and I moved in to our great-grandmother's house to take care of her. Sometimes I'd take Amanda along to spend a few days. We'd spend time together, but mostly, I was convinced she was spying for Mom. Then I went to Haiti, and Amanda was almost 9 when I returned. I left home for good a year later and didn't return as often as I got busy raising my own family.  She came to visit once in a while but those visits waned too, as she grew older, and suddenly here we are 12 years later. She's a grown woman, and I'm still seeing the 5 year old sister I left behind as I first went into the world to make my mark. I didn't call home as often as I should have, and didn't have the time for her as often as I should have. But the memories I have are good. Like the time, she came to visit for a week the year she was 11. She was eating a pear from the pear tree outside of our house and as we were driving down the road, she tossed the core of the pear out the car window. Except the window was still up and pear juice splattered everywhere. And even more recently, we made a late night trip to Giant when she came for a visit, and we danced down the aisles to the songs as we shopped. She in her cowgirl boots, and I in my Nike flipflops. There have been fun times, sad times, hard times, and worst times, but through it all, we're sisters. There's three of us and some day, we'll be just like our mother. But that story, entitled Becky's Daughters, is going to have to wait til next time!

Worn

When I am down, and discouraged, or when I have had one disappointment too many, or maybe I'm mad at the world and at God, and I want to know why I should go any farther, this is the song I go to. It is the cry of my heart as I beg my Father to hear me and see me and acknowledge that this path we are on sucks really bad, and it isn't fair. Worn, by Tenth Avenue North is a song that expresses the feelings of my heart perfectly on a night like tonight. "I'm tired, I'm worn. My heart is heavy from the work it takes to keep on breathing." Yes, I'm worn. I'm tired, and I want all this mess to go away. The song goes on to say later, "my soul feels crushed by the weight of this world." This song wouldn't be the beautiful song it is, though without the message of hope that comes next "I know that you can give me rest, so I cry out with all that I have left." When I reach that point, it is not pretty. I spend some time raging and storming at God, begging and demanding by turn that he fix this. Tears stream down my cheeks as I write, because I'm not proud of how I have let my faith take such a beating, but all we need to do is read the Psalms to know that the man who wrote the beautiful Psalm 23 also wrote some other not so beautiful things. He was angry and he let God know. But he always ended his sad and angry psalms on a note that spoke of how God would continue to hold him and heal him and he would continue to put his faith in the only One powerful enough to save the world. And that brings me to the next words of the song that lift me up so. "Let me see redemption win. Let me know the struggle ends, that you can mend a heart that's frail and torn. I wanna know a song can rise from the ashes of a broken life, and all that's dead inside can be reborn. Cause I'm worn...." There is so much more to the song, and I could go on and on about how this song blesses me. I feel triumphant when I sing the lines in the chorus. I feel God putting a hand on my shoulder, and wrapping me up in a spiritual hug. And when I'm done listening to that song, I move on to Colton Dixon's Through All of It, "life's been a journey, I've seen joy, I've seen regret, but You have been my God through all of it." And then I listen to Jeremy Camp's "He Knows", "He knows! He knows! Let your burdens come undone, lift your eyes up to the One who knows..." I don't know what the song writers have gone through to write these beautiful lyrics, but I know they are an example of the beauty that can rise from the ashes. Jeremy Camp's early songs were written after the loss of his wife to cancer. Casting Crowns' lead singer had his own battle with cancer recently. I don't know what God has in store for us. All I can see is the fragments of what was our future laying at our feet. I don't see the beauty in our situation. But, the words of Casting Crowns "Just Be Held" comes to mind. "Your world's not falling apart, it's falling into place. I'm on the throne, stop holding on, and just be held."  

This day has been hard for me. I spent 7 hours sitting in a waiting room waiting for Martin to see 2 different doctors and fill out a lot of paper work. It reminded me far too much of all the waiting that I did those first days after the accident. Then at the end, the doctor made the declaration that Martin would not be starting work until at least March. That kind of took the wind out of our sails since he was supposed to start his first day tomorrow. I know this is for the best because his headaches have increased greatly in the last few months, but I was so praying and hoping that this would be the answer we so desperately needed. And maybe it is, it's just not the fast answer I wanted. Now we spend some more time waiting, so maybe it's time to let go, and just be held... ..