One Is Just A Number

I went to Good Friday service at my church this evening and couldn't help but think of today's word. As the passages from John were read about the crucifixion, I thought about how Jesus' body suffered on that cross. How his spirit may have been broken when He asked why God had forsaken him. How His mother's heart must have been broken when she saw her son hanging there. Earlier in the day I watched the latest episode of the History Channel's "The Bible". Jesus broke the bread, gave it to his disciples and said, "Take, eat, this is my body which is broken for you." I'll take part in this sacrament on Sunday and hear these words again and think of  how all of this breaking was done to save us. Save us from ourselves and our sin. Save us from our broken spirits and broken hearts. So often I feel so broken, my heart hurting so that I don't know how it still beats. So broken that I don't feel qualified to write this blog and t...

Remember - it seems that's all I do. I remember what it was like to be married, to have someone hold me when I cried after a rough day. Remember what it was like to have a confidante who I was 100% sure would not betray my confidence. I remember what it was like when he told me that he was moving out, how I cried so hard that my legs wouldn't hold me and I slid down the wall. I can't remember a time when my heart wasn't broken. I can't remember a time when there was hope in my future. I can't remember what it felt like to believe that I'm worth something. I remember the things I did that may have made him leave. I remember the things I didn't do. I remember the things I wished I'd said and left unsaid. I often think if I could just get him to remember what we had, remember the way I loved him, maybe then he'd see what he walked away from and come back. I've tried to remember what it was like to have dreams, a plan for the future,...

Rest. My brain has such a hard time with that word that I couldn't quiet it long enough to figure out what to write this Friday. There is so much going through my brain at one time that rest is hard to come by. I can be exhausted on the couch and the minute my head hits the pillow my brain turns on. I should have called the insurance company about the roof. When will things change at work? Should I spend the money to take that trip this summer or should I use that money on my house? Before I know it I'm wide awake and it's hours before I get any rest. For Lent, I gave up talking to myself, hoping that I would hear God in the silence. I was hoping that by turning to Him for answers instead of trying to figure things out on my own by sorting through my thoughts out loud that I would find some rest. In turning it over to the only one that knows the answers, my head would rest on the pillow at night and my brain would turn off knowing it was all in His hands. R...

Life is so funny sometimes. I had just read this post by Sarah Markley on losing a house http://www.sarahmarkley.com/2013/03/on-losing-a-house/   which got me to thinking about my house and whether I could ever make it a home, then I look at Lisa-Jo's site and her word for Friday is home. I'm sensing a theme here. When I think of home (cue the song from "The Wiz"), the first place I think of is my parents' house, the home they have lived in since their wedding night in 1958. The decor has changed and I no longer have a bedroom there but it is my refuge, the place where things don't change - the love that I feel and the acceptance that is unconditional. The house I live in is the house I thought I'd die in, the house where I saw myself raising kids and growing old with my husband. First came his decision that he didn't want to have kids, then came his decision to leave me. So now my house is a place of broken promises and broken hearts. It...

Ordinary - when did that become a bad word? Why do we fear being ordinary? Is it because we turn on the tv and see "real" housewives who are anything but, living extravagant lives. Is it because we judge our worth by the number of Facebook friends and Twitter followers that we have? Ordinary means you live an average life but what's wrong with that? I crave ordinary. I'd like an ordinary job that I like going to every day. I'd love to live in an ordinary home with everything fixed up and nice. I wish for an ordinary car with a radio that works. I pray for an ordinary man to love me. But the thing is, I am anything but ordinary. I am extraordinary because He who made me is extraordinary and I am made in his own image. I have something about me that sets me apart from the rest, something that those housewives and the people with thousands of Twitter followers don't have. This goes for you too - you there who compares yourself to the people around...