RE: Long time no hear

Sometimes you spend time living life to the point where being on the internet seems like a waste of time. I'm grateful to be recovered from my post-trip ear infection which kept me out of the pool. And that's ok. I so much wanted to hit 50 miles by December, and I don't know if I'm going to make it or not. Perfectionism isn't all that it's cracked up to be, and quite frankly, I'm counting on the perfections of Another, my Messiah. I'm learning that I can rest in Him, really rest in Him. A brilliant book by Dr. David Powlison called "Seeing With New Eyes" has been a huge help to me. I am learning to look through the lens of Scripture in new ways, and that's really changing things. It's a bit of honey for the heart, as it were. So I'm writing to say that I'm thankful for so much today--and even thought there is much that is still slightly askew in my world (at least in the perfect world of my imagination, I am thankful that I can rest in the perfections of Y'shua. He's sees the end from the beginning, and is always at work. I'm still hoping to reach some goals that I've prayerfully set, but those goals don't seem nearly as important as learning how to love as He loves and walk as He walked. Goodbye, blah-ville. I'm taking the exit ramp ahead and don't intend to look back in the rear view mirror for any amount of money. :-)

That Stuffy Head Feeling

This photo was taken at Ocean Beach on October 2. The morning was misty and moist when I got up to go to the pool for a swim. I needed to go for a swim because I was about to go out of town for a few days, and I didn't think I'd be able to find a place to swim where I was going, or the time to actually get one. Still, even though I knew I needed to do it, I found that my enthusiasm was sadly in short supply. It was so hard to get myself into the pool that morning--I felt cold, and while I knew that once I started swimming that I would warm up, it took sitting on the side of the pool for a good five minutes to convince myself to take the plunge, already. I was so glad that I did--the endorphins kicked in when I was showering off afterward, and I had that great sense of well-being you get when you know that you've done something good for yourself that you were resistant to but did anyway. I had to fight for it though--that's what surprised me.

My hope was that after breakfast, the sun would come out and warm things up for our walk, but it was still kind of misty outside when my husband and I finally went out around 11:30 in the morning. We needed our jackets because it was cool, but we didn't mind. At first, when we got to the beach, we thought that we might not be able to get a parking place, there were so many cars! What in the world was going on? The beach was full of people with different colored t-shirts, in groups as if they were teams. There were people all over the place, walking along the water, and walking on the beach. There were tents and banners, and a lot of excitement with people energetically digging in the sand. We were walking past the annual sand castle contest at Ocean Beach. I saw a team of excited children from the elementary school a few blocks away from our house, wearing their "Robert Louis Stevenson" shirts with a great deal of pride, smiling and laughing.

I took this photo from the Cliff House as we were returning from our walk and it was still foggy around 1:30 in the afternoon. I hoped to post something a week ago Saturday, but simply ran out of energy and time. I was too busy living life to be blogging, I guess! I was also getting ready for an early morning flight the next day, and had to pack. More about that later, but I simply wanted to post this tonight. I haven't been back in the pool since the 2nd, but not because I haven't wanted to. Sometimes your best laid plans go astray. I came back from my trip with a virus and have to wait till my ears clear up to swim. I haven't felt like doing very much since last Thursday, when this virus caught up to me and knocked me off my feet. At some point, I hope to swim. Right now, my eyes are watering, which is about as "swimming" any of me is going to get, for a while, I suppose.

Swimming through deep waters

Dealing with grief feels like swimming through deep waters--where you are at the bottom and keep moving, moving, moving towards the surface, hoping that you get there before your lungs explode. Gasping and flailing about, you are grateful that you made it up for the breath you were dying for, because you thought that you just weren't going to make it. ("Just when you thought it was safe to go into the water...")

Ever since the high holidays I have been hit with fresh waves of grief over the loss of my brother. It surprised me. I've been doing pretty well, and have been at peace for the most part. Every so often, I'd get surprised by a wave. This one almost knocked me down today. I have had to cling to all of the Scripture I know about God's goodness and faithfulness. I have to speak the truth to myself, because self-pity lurks in the corner, ready to grab me round the neck like Gollum, trying to take back his "precious."

But I stand with Job--"The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord!" "Shall we only accept good from God and not evil?" "But I know that My Redeemer lives and one day in my flesh I shall see God."

Job's greatest grief was not for the loss of his goods, but the loss of his children. Ten of them to be exact. Yet Job still looked to his faithful Creator. He trusted, and God restored Job and transformed him in the bargain. So much greater grief than I can imagine, than I've ever known.

Today I didn't really want to swim. I called my husband who encouraged me. I freely admitted that I was out of sorts and needed to "go soak my head." He encouraged, and when it was done I found that it helped. It took much longer than usual. I wasn't gliding with glee like a fish. Each arm and leg felt like lead weights, but I pressed on.

What really helps is knowing that no matter how I feel, because of Y'shua, I belong to God and He is mine. He won't give up on me if I'm having a bad, sad day. He's the Man of Sorrows who is acquainted with grief. He bore all my griefs and has carried my sins and sorrows. He has been faithful at every turn, even when I've been faithless. He continues to amaze me, and give me songs in the night. And sometimes when the night dares to invade the daytime, He provides new songs in the daytime, too. But the song I most want to sing is the one when all of us are together singing the praises of the Lamb who was slain before the foundations of the world. I don't think it will be long now...