prayer

We're one week into the 40 Day vigil at the abortion clinic & wow... do these times (the 40 day vigils) ever change me so completely.
i'm a horrible "pray-er"... & yet - God just won't let me be.  He's relentless in calling me to prayer.  So i keep trying... & i'm learning... & it has been months now - of learning, growing... but mostly just... praying.  & it's long and laborious.  Sometimes i feel like i'm talking to myself.  Sometimes i'm just saying words... Sometimes i recite prayers - or read them off of a paper, trying to meditate on them.  Sometimes i sing praises & worship - or just freestyle it - as my catholic friends like to say.  Sometimes He speaks - & i think i'm getting better at hearing His voice.  Even his rebuke is a welcome thing.  i've told my so many of my friends about the day that He gave me a swift, sudden, unexpected rebuke that made me cry (but it also made me want to shout for JOY because it was so obviously HIM...) & sometimes He has spoken only one word... leaving me sorrowing, but clinging to the Truth that that one word allowed me to claim. i'm learning to pray when i don't feel like it - and i'm also learning to take advantages of the moments when i do. This prayer thing... it's changing me. 
He's claiming me... & i feel myself, "His".

chop down the tree

It comes to me in a dream, and i know even as i'm dreaming it that i'm going to blog it for my children.  
i'm walking on land.  The land is mine.  It belongs to Neil & i & the grass grows, the sun shines.  The flora & fauna abound & there is evidence of health and life. 
In the middle of our land, a big tree is growing.  It's huge. 
Generations old. 
The trunk is gnarled and black - and i know it by sight.  It is both ugly and dangerous. That tree is poison.  It grows so that it blocks the sun and it's twisted roots rob the soil of nutrients. 
The tree has to go. 
i cut it down.  & even though the land belongs to Neil & i both - & our children run & play on this land that is ours, i know that this tree belongs to me & that it will be my hands that bring it to it's end. 
Once down, the sun tenderly licks the ground that has been in the shade for far too long.  i'm sweaty, emotional and exhausted... but i know that i can't be finished yet.  & so i set to work on the roots - & Neil... mild & silent beside me is forced to watch and wait... because it's my tree, not his.  He's patient, but he makes no move to take the tools from my hands as i dig out those long twisted roots - piece by miserable piece.  The ground becomes a mound of sifted soil.  It has been turned fresh and black by my toil - as fragment by fragment, the monstrous tree is unearthed and discarded...
The soil is good. 
Things can grow in soil that is dark, rich and fertile like this soil... now that the poisonous tree is gone. 
i'm relentless. 
My nails tear - my hands are full of tiny burning cuts and i'm covered in dirt - my whole body is an aching shivering mess.  i pick out pieces of root that are as small as my baby finger - i refuse to allow even one sliver of it to remain... to re-root... to continue to rob my land.  Every shred of it must go.  On one side, i stack the blackened poison wood that is set aside for destruction... on the other - there is the mound of soil that is ready to be worked and prepared.  The soil is eager to produce a crop that will no longer be tainted by the tree that stood for so long - sucking the good to sustain it's growth. 
i'm doing this for my children. 
This is the land i'm passing down to them... i wish that there was a majestic oak in the middle of the land that i give - one that has stood for generations before me in it's pure beauty, and certainly, in different spots on our land generations old trees do grow.  We sometimes take them for granted, sitting in their shade, enjoying their fruit, admiring their aged beauty... but in this spot - i won't leave a beautiful tree. Instead - my gift is that the tree that stood there before my time stands no longer.  i am satisfied that this freshly tilled, fertile soil... is a gift too.  Now they can plant a new tree, sown with a seed of Truth - and begin a new tradition that will last for generations to come... watching it grow.

i'm in kindergarten

Alternately titled: what i'm learning. 

God loves me. 

& i know i've posted about this a lot. 
But it's a long, long way from my mind to my heart.  & circumstances cause delays and back tracks & pain, but i see Truth still. 

God loves me. 

Neil could leave me, my kids could all walk away from me.  My father & mother could despise me & my brothers and sisters reject me... but...

God loves me. 

i could be a hot mess of ugly tears, i could strive to reach Him in every way imaginable - but my freaking arms are so short... too short... & so He reaches for me, because...

God loves me. 

i can read His Book, fast and pray... i can love Him exactly how He created me to love & worship Him... & it's all meaningful because...

God loves me. 

My hands get sore now - maybe it's a sign of age... of wear and tear.  My eyes puff up and wrinkle up when i cry.  i talk too loud.  i say way too much... but also too little.  i'm horrible at being a real friend.  To my friends: you know who you are... thank you for giving me grace... But despite it all...

God loves me. 

i play my drum for Him.  Every act of motherhood, every sacrifice - intentional or otherwise - is a solemn beat on that tiny drum, offering myself always and only for Him.  Every moment i allow myself to be vulnerable - to take the pain & glory of Love... the intense struggle of allowing marriage to consume my self-absorption... more complicated rhythms and patterns  - forming a song... for Him.  It's a pittance, but i do it because...

God loves me. 

He doesn't love me because i'm precious to the world.  In the world's eyes, their most trusted appraiser would examine me under his microscope.  He would know every intimate detail and crack - every tiny bit of beauty or goodness.  He could see exactly what i am - & what i have to offer... & then - after this exhaustive examination... completely laid bare, i would be found wanting.  "She's ok," he would shrug, "Nothing i haven't seen before - we could take her or leave her..."  But He, my Father, has never used the world's appraisal methods...

God loves me. 

& it occurs to me that this complete disconnect between what i FEEL and what i KNOW to be true... even this little pain... He might find useful.  So... take it, Father.  Take your daughter's confused struggling.  i'm pouring it all out.  i'm not willing to base my relationship with you... or with others... on feelings that i know are false.  Lies.  The truth won't change... & what's true, is that...

God loves me. 

So that's how kindergarten is going... How are the rest of you doing? 

if you know my husband... (edited)

If you know my husband, you'll know that he's the last person that you'd ever expect to suggest that you need to watch a sermon online... but that's just what happened. 
It was February 12th, & i knew even the night before that i wasn't going to church in the morning. 
"Bess, i got nothing..." i told him, "Can you just take the littles to church in the morning?"
& so he did...
He packed up the bigs & left me at home with the tinies.  When he came home, he said, "Babe, i think that sermon was for you... with your prolife stuff... i think you need to listen to it online."
"Whaddyou mean?" i asked.  i'm not a fan of watching sermons online & he knows that... but he persisted.
"He talked about the paralytic's friends who brought him to Jesus.  i think that's like you, praying at the abortion clinic.  i know it's uncomfortable & hard, but i think you're doing something that needs to be done..."
& he left it at that...
& i didn't watch it. 
Life is busy, Neil's out of town a lot, i have little people to feed, laundry to fold and blogs to pretend to write...
But then, one day he asked me...."Did you watch it yet?  That sermon, did you see it?  'Cause i think that you should..."
& so another business trip came & i found myself with the time & the inclination to spend a half hour in front of my computer...
It felt like i received a love letter from my husband. 
That he could see the eternal value in what so few support... & that he could hear a message of, "press on... keep going... don't stop..." & know enough to pass it on to his beleaguered wife...
is better than chocolate. 
You can watch the sermon from February 12th HERE.

ps - i posted my heart over on the Calgary 40 days for life blog... i'd love it if you would read it.  It's my constant battle - to be able to understand that my Saviour loves me - when i see myself so utterly unworthy.  But this is the thing isn't it?  He doesn't love me because i'm worthy, He loves me because i'm His girl.  You can read my post HERE.

if you don't like abortion...

i couldn't tell you how many times i have read that phrase from those who advocate unlimited access to abortions, "If you don't like abortion, don't have one..."
& i get what they're trying to say. 
i totally understand that an unplanned pregnancy can be a tender thing - full of shame and uncertainty.  Watching women going in & out of that abortion clinic has solidified this view for me.  These aren't liberated, confident women... these are fear-filled women; many of them are coerced - and i'm willing to bet that none of them feel like they have any "choice" in the matter. 
The reason i feel like i can't be silent about abortion isn't because i want a hand too, in manipulating these vulnerable women... it's because there is another life at stake.  There is a little one in danger of being torn from the safety of his mother's womb. 
A baby. 
To say that i should only consider my own children borne of my own body when i consider the world-wide epidemic of abortion, seems rather short sighted.  That's like saying that if i don't like child abuse, i shouldn't abuse my own children....
Should i not speak out on behalf of the little ones who are battered and wounded at the hands of their parents?  Or is it enough that i don't lay a hand on my own, since child abuse is such a personal matter, between a parent and child. 
Should we not seek to protect the vulnerable ones... both born, and unborn?  Whether they're ours, or not?
Standing at the abortion clinic and praying - is the most effective thing that we can do to change hearts and lives.  We often hold signs to remind those mama's of the tender life they carry - not in judgement - but in compassionate mercy. 
Hey, mama... you have other choices.  We love you - and are here because you and your little one are precious in His sight... i know it hurts to see us here.  i don't want to cause pain, but i do want to save you from the permanence of abortion... 

If you don't like abortion... join us & pray.