I didn’t print the list and scripture out or laminate it as I intended. As so often happens, life—chasing after a toddler when nearly three months pregnant and working from home—got in the way of my best intentions. Then a week later, just as we were hopefully rounding the corner into our second trimester, we learned that we had miscarried again without warning. It was our fourth pregnancy in three years, and our third loss.

We returned home in shock and began the process of sharing our loss with our friends and family. When speaking to my Dad over the phone, he said, “You know Honey, my life scripture is Proverbs 3:4-6. Trust in the Lord…” Huh, I thought, how about that?

The next day, our pastor called to check in on us and offer comfort. “God put you on my heart today,” he said, “and I started praying for you guys. God loves you and wants to remind you of Proverbs 3:4-6. Trust in the Lord….” I started to cry.

To a cynic, it might seem like coincidence that the well-known Proverb would be repeated to us so often during a time of loss. But to me and my husband, it was just what we needed—hope. It was as if God was saying, “I haven’t forgotten you. There’s a lot of mess in the world, but I see your mess too. Hang in there. I’ve got a plan.”

We were very blessed in a difficult time. Our friends, family and church rallied around us with meals, prayers and cards filled with gentle condolences and specific offers to help. We took time for ourselves. We rested. We started the process of grieving all over again.

Even as I realized that Rick was out of my league, I wondered, “Why not me?” With the popular people like Rick, I never seemed to measure up. Then, one night I was watching the news with my parents on our little TV with no cable, each blurred image doubling as lines passed over Dan Rather’s face. And there was Nancy Kerrigan with tears running down her aquiline nose as she clutched the leg that had just been brutalized by a masked stranger. Then images of Tanya Harding, chin jutting defiantly as lights flashed in her too blond hair. Reporters peppering her with questions about hiring a thug to knock Nancy out of the 1994 Olympics. Clips of promising young Nancy moving over the ice as if she were born with skates strapped to her ankles. Effortless. And Tanya, powerful, but square and squat as she muscled over the ice, moving with a determination that made me think she had fought tooth and nail to earn the right to be there.

And in the hard, determined set of Tanya’s jaw, I recognized myself, or myself as I thought others might see me. I saw a girl who didn’t come from a “good” family or have money, a girl who didn’t belong. I saw a girl who wasn’t born knowing the social rules others seemed to sense innately. I recognized the toughness born from scrapping and working just as hard as everyone else only to be passed over for the same girls again and again.

That sense of not being good enough followed me into college and my early twenties. I worked harder and longer than those around me, trying to prove myself. On the surface, I succeeded at life, but underneath I was exhausted. I lived under a sense that I had tried my best and still come up short. Eventually I came to the point where I had two choices: either get out the crowbar and start taking other people down a notch or question everything I ever believed about myself, about life, about what I wanted and who I was and who God is.

Lamentations 3:22-24; Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not, they are new every morning; Great is your faithfulness.
The Lord is my portion says my soul.

Exactly like a dark cloud eclipses the sun a resolute sadness hovered over my head. I felt it as soon as my feet hit the floor. However, I had too many things to do to give into it! Since Mom’s stroke on October 29, 2008, my days were full, my adrenalin level was pump’in from sun up to sun down! I was balancing a full time job as a Clinical Admissions Director for a large rehabilitation company, plus managing my moms care. Both of these things coupled with the normal run-of-the-mill stuff filled my plate to over-flow everyday. BUT I’M BLESSED I REMINDED MYSELF! God is restoring my mom’s mind and health. Everyday I see improvement in her speech, and through HIS grace and mercy I am managing the job He has allowed me to call mine.

I made coffee, felt sad. Let the dog out, made my lunch, mom’s breakfast, and penned a note for mom’s caregiver. Still I felt sad. Then I ran up the stairs, turned the shower on and tears came to my eyes…what is this…push it away…gotta get on with the day! But with every action it was there — a little sadness, deep in my spirit!

I always pray during my commute from Manassas, VA to Washington, DC and it was during that time that the sadness poked me again. I stopped mid prayer, “Excuse me for a minute Lord! WHAT IS THIS SADNESS?” Quietly the Holy Spirit whispered, “Next week is Ruben’s birthday.”

Quickly, tears formed in the corners of my eyes and slid down my cheeks. It always catches me off guard how emotions have a compass of their own, how they can just change the course of your day, nudging their way into your consciousness, causing you to be subliminally aware of dates that were important and had meaning.

Deep breath…let it out slowly…my thoughts rolled back to soft times…touching without talking, hugs, non sexual kisses…Lord, why didn’t you allow us to experience a lifetime together? Why only five years of marriage then death? The answer returned quickly — because you would not be experiencing the relationship you are embracing now! You would not know, much less love this man of God I sent you!

B-A-A-M!

Instantly! I saw through the dark glass clearly…just a glimpse of God’s plan. What I saw as the end of something beautiful, abruptly and without warning, interrupted, God saw as the beginning! Since meeting (we will call him Stan), I have very often felt as if I had been waiting all my life to meet him. A person so down-to-earth, so calm, so caring, so kind that singing birdies fly around his head (just kidding). Stan is a person who loves and honors the Lord openly and without reserve. I noticed that about him on our first date. Now we are a year into our time together and I love that about him.

As usual God showed up and showed out. Revealing to me, once again that HE not only knows what’s best for me. He knows just the right time to add another character to HIS story called my life.

God made us to need each other. Divinely appointed friends are those who both sharpen us and help us succeed through wise counsel. Proverbs 27:17 says “As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another”. The Lord puts different people in our lives to “sharpen” us, to refine us. There are times that this sharpening can hurt a little, or a lot. But a friend understands when they need to speak the truth in love, even though it may be painful for us, because it will be for our greater good in the end. Proverbs 15:22 states “Plans go wrong for lack of advice; many counselors bring success”. There are times when I think I know the path I should take in a situation, but I have learned the importance of first praying about it, and then asking for wise counsel from trusted friends.

Thank you Jesus for this wonderful friend who loves me enough to tell me what You know I need to hear. She’s not just concerned with my comfort, she wants me to experience the fullness of Your good plans for my life. Bless her today Lord, and return to her many fold all that she has given to me.

Authentic: (ə-then-tik) noun – 3. Not false or imitation; 5. True to one’s own personality, spirit, or character

For the past several days I have been reflecting on authenticity – who I am vs. who people think I am. It’s an interesting question! I received a magazine, from a friend of mine, this week that included an interview with Darla Rakes, the Lead Pastor’s wife at Winston-Salem First Assembly. In this interview she talked about being authentic, parts of which struck a chord within me. One question asked was:

“Why do you think so many people, even church people, are afraid to be authentic and real?”
She answered, “They are afraid that if people know who they really are, then they won’t be accepted and won’t be loved. So, as Christians, they think they have to be perfect, instead of real and struggling.”

I can identify with this feeling greatly. Growing up in a pastor’s home, I learned early on the difference between the face I put on around people vs. how I truly felt inside. I learned that “appearance” was more important to people than reality (how many times did I hear “abstain from all APPEARANCE of evil”?) As I’ve gotten older I have struggled with how I feel and being honest with others about those feelings. It has been difficult to cultivate true relationships with people, based on my authentic self, out of fear of being “found out.” It is still a daily struggle to allow others access to the REAL me without the worry of whether or not I will be accepted or judged by them. Maybe a lot of that anxiety comes from the inner struggles that I face or from feeling NOT good enough. I’m not sure. What I do know is that there are days that I feel like the worst wife, mother and friend that walks the earth and other, probably fewer, days that I feel on top of the world. But, do I share those negative thoughts and feelings with those around me? Probably not on most days!

As Christians, I feel we have a responsibility to those around us, even to each other, to show who we really are. I think it is up to us to show the world that as Christ-followers, we are not perfect…only forgiven. And it’s only by God’s grace and mercy that we will stand before Him as righteous. How can we help each other on this journey we call life, if we don’t even know who the other truly is. How can we be uplifting and encouraging to others if we don’t know there is a need there?

So at 17, as I left home and lived in a dorm, I had a whole group of drawers all to myself. I think that there were six. And guess what, I kept all of my undergarments in one drawer. Later, I married and had plenty of drawer space in our bedroom and the guest bedroom. But guess what, I kept all of my undergarments in one drawer. Over the years, about once a year, I separate the undergarments and use three or four other drawers. Within four or five weeks, they are all stuffed back in the same drawer! I think this is so funny, even as I write this, I’m laughing. I need deliverance in this area of my life.

I’ve actually busted a few drawers. My husband hasn’t really figured out why and neither did I, for a while. Initially, he blamed it on the used and inexpensive furniture. Now, I just don’t mention that it’s broken or busted, since I’ve figured out the reason. Currently, I have empty drawers, and that ONE drawer I can barely open. Sometimes they fall below into the next “almost empty” drawer and guess what, I find myself pushing and forcing them back into that one top drawer. It is so funny.

So since I’ve faced the reality of needing serious help in this area, I’ve asked the Lord to deliver me from this “one drawer” syndrome. I guess the spiritual point of this is that I personally believe that nothing is too trivial to take to God for His divine intervention. I am proud, however, that I have taught our sons to do differently…that is when they finally put their clothes away. My brother always had a bedroom to himself and for a long time, it was my responsibility to fold and put away his clothes. Maybe that is why I have been successful in this area, with our sons. I do believe if I had a daughter, I may have passed this down as a generational habit. This is just so funny to me.