Category Archives: friendship

Gratefulness . . .

Morning gratefulness. I’m choosing it. Where do I begin?

With her and this post she wrote about her mother, Glory, four years ago. It was one of my first connections with LauraLee; her story and her Glory touched me deeply back then—a witness that reaches through to today to remind me about the enduring love and hope of Jesus that triumphs over trouble and that brings glory out of suffering.

Secondly, I am grateful for the skillful work of Jen from Blue Yonder Designs. My transition from Blogger to WordPress was not a smooth one. Since that time, I’ve experienced no less than a few headaches with trying to work out the kinks. Accordingly, some changes needed to be made to the design, and Jen has been with me every step of the way. Not only is she techno-wiz (she’s been renamed by my husband as “super-technology woman”), she’s a joy to work with . . . easy, laid-back, available, and kind. If you’re thinking about making the switch to WordPress or would like some help with your current design, please consider using Jen. She has my solid recommendation, along with my respect.

This morning, I’m also grateful for the ministry and outreach of Lisa Shaw. Have you had the opportunity to listen in to her radio program on Thursdays? If not, you can visit this link at anytime to take advantage of her archived shows. Not long ago, I received a box of goodies from Lisa which included a copy of her book, You are Beautiful in God’s Eyes, and a teaching CD, Prayers from the Heart. Both of them are powerful representations and demonstrations of the Holy Spirit’s work in Lisa’s life. Her teaching ministry has been God’s tool of sacred transformation in my heart and life these past several months. I am privileged to call her my friend, and I know that you’ll be blessed by joining her on the pilgrim road.

a sampling of Cindy’s work

Today, I’m giving away a copy of Lisa’s book and the teaching CD to one of you. In addition, I’m including a package of notecards from my favorite card designer, Cindy. You can visit her Etsy store by clicking on this link. Cindy’s creative eye never ceases to amaze me. She has a knack for getting it right, every single time. I adore her work and am also pleased to call her my friend.

All four women—LauraLee with her writing, Jen with her technology, Lisa with her teaching, and Cindy with her creativity—reaching out to bless the world through their giftings. I am grateful for each one of them and the role they play in my life and am honored to share their work with you. Nothing blesses me more than to see others operating out of their giftedness and applying their willingness and “want to” to the creative pulse placed inside of them by Father God.

He’s put that same creative pulse inside all of us. He can’t help himself. He’s the Creator, and you, friend, are made in his image. You’re not void of creativity. You’re filled with it. You may not consider yourself a creative individual, but there is within you an artistic, inspired bent for innovation.

Take some time today to consider your giftings, further still, to put them to good use . . . God’s use. You are never more effective for the kingdom than when you’re operating out of your giftedness and your willingness therein. God’s signature on you, in you, and through you blesses the world. As always . . .

Peace for the journey,

What creative pulse resides within you? Leave a comment below to enter the give-away.

In the Olive Press with Jesus {part seven: Doing Grief}

In the Olive Press with Jesus {part seven: Doing Grief}

It’s been two months since she died… their mom, my friend (you can read about it here). This past week, my husband and I made the six-hour round trip to their home to share with them in their sorrow. To do grief. To remember her and to allow that remembrance to touch us deeply where it hurts.

Doing grief. It wasn’t easy; grief never is. I don’t suppose I’ve ever really witnessed this kind of sorrow… in many ways unfamiliar territory for me. Funeral grief—the kind of grief that packs in and around the initial parting of a loved one—has been my common experience. Grief that comes two months later? Well, that kind of grief is easier to pack away for those of us who sit on the outside of its unwrapping. We aren’t privy to this kind of gut-wrenching grief unless we are the direct recipients of its painful prod. But just because we don’t feel the sorrow, see the sorrow, hold the sorrow as profoundly as those who’ve lost someone close, doesn’t mean that sorrow no longer exists.

They feel it. They see it. They hold it. They grieve deeply behind hidden doors, behind expectations, behind forced smiles, trying desperately to fit into a world that’s moving on, despite the fact that grief isn’t in any hurry to leave. And that, friends, is an added burden to a grieving soul. Grief cannot live outside the boundaries of human existence. Grief cannot separate itself from common conversation and daily deliberations. When grief moves into a heart, grief stays. Certainly, over time, grief changes, but I’m not convinced it ever really leaves. What I am convinced of is the need to allow grief room enough, time enough, and respect enough to breathe—to work itself into and out of our hearts as it comes.

We must acknowledge it, whether a deeply felt, personal grief or the deep grief of a friend. We mustn’t clutter it, stuff it, or bury it. We simply and profoundly need to let it breathe and then to do the seemingly impossible—breathe alongside it. Not underestimate or overestimate what it is, but to let what “is”… just be.

This is our grieving season, friends … a lengthy round trip to Calvary and back where we come alongside God’s grief to feel it, see it, and hold it. Just for awhile. Just long enough for it to breathe strong remembrance into our souls. We weren’t there at the funeral some 2000 years ago; we’ve only heard stories about it. But here we are today, walking into that story, standing heart-to-heart with the One who wrote that story, and receiving its painful truth as our portion. His grief belongs to us; it is now part of our stories forever forward.

There’s no room for cluttering, stuffing, and burying the truth of Christ’s cross… not for those of us who call ourselves by his name. Easter pilgrims are those who willingly carry the suffering cross for self and for others, knowing it will hurt… greater still, knowing it will consecrate our hearts for a deeper identification with Jesus. The cross is what he came to do; in doing so, he and the world around him, “did grief” … continues to do grief. Why should we do any less?

Do better for Jesus this week; do better for those you love. Come alongside them to breathe with them. In doing so, you give them Easter’s breath … Easter’s best. As always…

Peace for the Journey,
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catching words… catching hearts

“What’s this about? Forgive me if I’m prying, but you tossed it out there, and I caught it.”

This was her response to me in an e-mail after I left a comment to one of her recent blog posts. It doesn’t much matter the content of my original comment; what matters is her response… her willingness to catch my words. In doing so, she caught my heart. What a good friend! What a good gift!

Most of us live our lives out loud in this cyber-community, putting our thoughts on display for others to digest. We do so intentionally; we mean for people to read our words and, ultimately, to understand them in accordance with our intentions. There’s a whole lot of room for interpretation when it comes to the “speak” we use in social media; consequently, we’re often misunderstood. But of this I am certain…

We want someone to try, someone to sit long enough with our thoughts so that we might move beyond the front door of our hearts and stay connected to this great big world.

I am grateful for those of you who catch my words, who read between, behind, and all around the words in order to take hold of my heart. It’s the best part of being here… of picking up the pen every now and again and saying what I mean, writing what I live. It may not always be what you want to hear, but it’s almost always what I need to say. Thank you for the grace afforded me along the way.

Like you, I want to be a word-catcher, a heart-catcher as well. Would you allow me to catch some of your heartfelt words this weekend? Go ahead… toss a few in my direction. What’s on your mind? How might I pray for you? As always…

Peace for the journey,
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"You are Beautiful in God’s Eyes" by Lisa Shaw (a give-away)

Several months ago, I wrote a post on solving the problem of pain. In it, I talk about the idea of personal creativity and its direct connection to helping heal the wounds of others. Musicians play instruments. Singers sing. Bakers bake. Teachers teach. Planners plan. And writers… well we write. We give our words to others in hopes that something we’ve written might resonate with readers in a positive way, thus fostering heart health—body, soul, and spirit.

Lisa Shaw is one such writer, and she delivers a message of healing in her first book release, You are Beautiful in God’s Eyes. I’ve read the book through a few times now, even keeping it on my nightstand. Why? Well, I like the cover. Seeing Lisa’s beautiful smile reminds me of the loving investments she’s made into my heart over the years. Secondly, I keep her book handy because every word contained within is a continual reminder for me to look beyond the flawed perceptions I harbor about myself and, instead, to begin to see myself as God sees me.

Beautiful. Created by God’s hand. Thought about. Considered. In God’s image. On God’s heart.

Indeed, a message easily forgotten by me on days when I’m tempted by the enemy to focus solely on my imperfections. Each chapter in Lisa’s book rings with a clarion call to get back to the basics… back to the beginning when Father God sat with the idea of me on the front side of Genesis and called me very good. The idea of me when he walked his Son to a bloody grave. The idea of me when he walked his Son out from the grave and into the folds of heaven. The idea of me when he sent his Spirit to dwell in the hearts of his people. The idea of me when he tucked my life inside the safety of my mother’s womb. The idea of me some forty-five years later when it’s sometimes easy to forget that I’m still God’s very good idea… warts and all.

Perhaps you understand. Perhaps there are seasons when you’re easily swayed by personal opinion rather than God’s opinion. Times when you let down your spiritual guard to entreat the lies of the enemy that label you to a lesser degree than God’s very good. If that’s you (and it’s certainly been me), then You are Beautiful in God’s Eyes is a good starting point for redefining who you are in Jesus Christ.

Lisa writes like Lisa lives—authentically and passionately for the kingdom cause. She is a strong encourager of God’s people and an even stronger advocate for the transforming work of God’s Word. Lisa doesn’t let her readers off the hook easily. She calls for greater discipleship on the part of her readers, a willingness to dig deeply for the “beautiful” that belongs to each one of us as God’s children. I am grateful for her deliberate prod and for her obedience to take the Father’s message to the world. In doing so, she is helping to solve the problem of pain.

Thank you, Lisa, for writing these words. You are beautiful in God’s eyes and in mine. As always…

Peace for the journey,
elaine

PS: For a chance to win a copy of Lisa’s book, please leave me a comment expressing your interest. In addition to Lisa’s book, the winner will receive a set of Cindy’s handmade note cards as beautifully promoted at her Etsy shop.

Please take time to review Cindy’s craftsmanship and let me know some of your favorites. She, too, helps to solve the problem of pain with her creativity! The winner of Lisa’s book and Cindy’s note cards will be announced with my next post. Shalom.

when a friend crosses to Canaan ahead of you…

Judith made it home to Jesus on Thanksgiving Day. I’ve been living with her absence since then. Four days is hardly enough time to displace my grief. I don’t have a place to put my grief, not really. I can’t send a casserole to the West Coast… can’t stop by the family living room to offer my condolences. I wouldn’t even recognize her family members if I saw one of them on the street. I’ve never met any of them face-to-face. Not even her—my Judith friend. Our lives didn’t connect the regular way. Our lives connected here … in this place, this space that I have reserved for the public sharing of thoughts. A domain named “Peace for the Journey.” A home for my words and the birthplace of some rich, kindred friendships.

Judith was one of the first of you, extending our relationship beyond customary comments to include nearly four years’ worth of phone conversations, e-mails, snail mails, all kinds of communication that move a friendship past common courtesy. In doing so, I’ve experienced one of the truest, most honest and encouraging relationships of my lifetime. Judith has been my mentor, my cancer sister, my sounding board, my “middle-of-the-night” friend who listened to me and understood me when others couldn’t. She was the second person I called after receiving my diagnosis and almost always the first person I called when I was hunkered down in the middle of my pain. These last years with Judith have strengthened my heart and my faith in a way that furthers the cause of Jesus Christ.

Judith sometimes worried about her doing enough for the kingdom. She wanted to be used by God but often didn’t recognize the weightiness of her witness to others. Who I am today, in part, is a direct reflection of the time that Judith Guerino invested in me. She was never too busy, too sick, too tired, or too perfect to take me on. She was just willing, and that willingness, friends, is an extraordinary gift to receive. I recognized its worthiness early on in our friendship, and I cherished each moment that I was able to share with my beloved friend. One of those moments came six weeks prior to Thanksgiving.

While out for an afternoon walk, I felt strongly that I should try and call Judith. She’d been in and out of the hospital, not able to take calls most days, so I was uncertain about her availability to speak with me. One of our great concerns for each other (especially during our sick days) was not to wear one another out with conversation. We made a deal. If we couldn’t talk (for whatever reason), we wouldn’t answer the phone, and we wouldn’t be mad about it … we’d just understand.

Six weeks ago was not one of those moments. Instead, six weeks ago hosted a God-ordained moment for both of us.

“Judith, if this needs to be our good-bye, then let’s do it right. Let’s say everything we need to say, and let’s do so with great clarity. This could be our hand-holding, bedside release.”

And so it was. Our final conversation. We talked for over an hour … laughed, cried, prayed, and tenderly released one another to the roads in front of us. We knew where hers was heading, and while it seemed that my road was taking a detour or two that would eventually catch up with hers, I couldn’t escape the fact that no matter the path in front of both of us, we would stay connected because of our kinship in Jesus Christ.

“Wherever I go, Judith, from this point forward, you’ll be with me. I’ll keep your story as a part of my own. I’ll wear this mantle you have given me and place it on the shoulders of other cancer patients who need the love and encouragement of a friend like you. I will do so in honor of you. I’ll carry it for both of us.”

It’s not easy to speak words like these … not easy to articulate the inevitabilities of our up-and-coming departures, but when it happens, it’s a sacred gift to those who are standing at the portal of heaven and to those who are left behind to wonder, to imagine, to believe and to grieve. Judith may have crossed the Jordan River into Canaan ahead of me, but she didn’t do so without me. She carried my story with her and, in return, she left her story with me. This is the unity we share as believers in Jesus Christ—the eternal thread that links us together and that pulls our heartstrings forward in faith.

We don’t enter into the presence of Jesus Christ without the present witness of others. Those we love and those who have loved us, well, I believe they’re part of the cargo that we’ll carry with us into our forevers. When our crossing-over day comes and we arrive on the shores of Canaan, not only will we step forward into the arms of our Father, but also the testimony of a great many heart-investors will step with us. It’s just how it works, friends, this investing of love. Eternal love rooted in Christ’s love plants seeds, and all eternal seeds harvest hugely for the kingdom.

It matters what we do here, how we love here. How we give and share God here. And while we aren’t privy to the arrival of others when they finally meet our Father face-to-face, wouldn’t it be wonderful to know that a part of us arrives there with them as a lasting witness to our willingness to love on the front side of heaven?

Yes, Judith went home to Jesus on Thanksgiving Day. Part of me did as well, friends, and I cannot tell you the joy this brings to my sadness—knowing that as she steps in glory, so do I. A little bit of my faith, a little bit of my heart is already dancing in heaven, alongside my kindred friend. Oh that I… that we would take each step, live each day, love this way with eternity in mind!

Our stories belong to one another, and I can’t think of a finer group of people I’d rather carry with me into Canaan when my crossing-over day arrives. Until then, let’s keep planting God’s eternal seed into the hearts of those we love, and let us celebrate the thread that binds us all together as one–Jesus Christ.

Let’s do it right … say everything we need to say and do so with God’s great clarity while today is still today. It’s the best we can do. I love you each one.

Peace for the journey,

~elaine
PS: To read the guest post that Judith wrote for me last summer, click on this link.

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