Category: Change

The Seasons of My Heart

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Winter usually fills me with dread, but I plan to relax and enjoy its slower pace this year. God showed me that every season has a purpose, and fruit only comes when my heart makes its way through each. Eccleciastes 3:1-8 says,

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace. (KJV)

My heart has been through four seasons in the past forty-three years. Just as fall, winter, spring, and summer form a cycle of growth for plants, the fruit of my heart comes from dying, resting, awakening, blooming, and then beginning the process all over again.

I fell in love for the first time in the fall. I was very young, and it was a beautiful example of what God wanted for me. I wasn’t ready to be loved, so I let it slip away.

My thirty-year marriage was a cold winter that left my heart numb and unable to function as it should. A fairy tale romance unthawed my heart but left me mired in the mud of reality as my prince rode off into the sunset when I professed my love for him.

Summer brought flowers and promises of sunlight that warmed my heart and gave me hope. Fruit ripened but spilled its seeds onto the ground before the season came to an end.

I know love will grow again in my heart. Such is the cycle of growth, life, and love. Winter is the perfect time for fields to be fallow, and my heart is yearning to be fallow for a season.

God reminded me to be thankful for every season, relax into obedience, and let Him transform and heal my heart as only He can. I know there will be beautiful fruit in my future, and I don’t have to know more than that. I have tasted love’s sweet fruit, and I know I will again. I also know there’s nothing better than ice and rest for an aching heart.

My heart may be aching, but I know it is only for a season. Pete Seeger says it beautifully in “Turn, Turn, Turn.”

Broken Bride

I’ve always believed God wanted me to be a bride, but I could never see myself as one. I’ve never really been a bride even though I walked down the isle in a long, white gown forty-two years ago. After a year of dating and a summer of living together, I made it clear to my boyfriend that we were either going to be married or I was leaving. Billy said, “Fine, you pick the month, and I’ll pick the day.”

I picked September because it was August at the time. He selected the 31st, and I was thrilled that he remembered that we had met on the last day of September. I said with surprise, “You remembered!”

He quickly proceeded to recite, “Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November….” I cried and told him I wouldn’t marry him if he were the last man on earth. He felt guilty and told me to pick the day. I opted for the 15th and down the isle we went.

Twenty-nine Septembers later, I left a marriage that was never meant to be. I thank God for my son and granddaughters that came from my marriage, but I realized early on that I was not, and never would be, a bride. I missed my chance to be a beloved bride, so I put my fairy tale dreams away.

My idea of a bride came from the perfect princesses of childhood stories. I never imaged a bride could be broken until this morning when God made it clear that His bride is a broken one. The church is described as the bride of Christ or His body to emphasize oneness with Him.  Christ, God, and the Holy Spirit are One; Christ died so we could also become one, as well. Husbands and wives join together in a unique and beautiful union, so Christ used the powerful metaphor to make His point about the power of love to unite.

God knows I am not perfect, but He never expected me to be. He knows His bride is broken; it’s why He sent His perfect Groom. The church isn’t perfect by any means, and neither are the individuals that make up the body of Christ. Christ  finds belovedness where the world sees brokenness. It’s the biggest difference between God’s way and the way of the world. I’ve always seen myself as damaged goods; perhaps that’s why I could never see the beloved bride He created me to be. The use of bride to describe is not about an earthly marriage; it is about my relationship with Him.

A bride loves her groom with abandon and cannot wait to be with him. A groom cherishes his beloved bride more than anything or anyone else. That sometimes changes after the wedding; but before the ceremony, there is an air of exhilarating expectancy in both the bride and the groom. The difference with Christ and His bride is that expectancy becomes eternal exhilaration when they are joined together.

I cannot begin to imagine how wonderful eternity with God is going to be, but I get a sweet taste of it while I wait and prepare my heart to meet Him. Before I can begin to wait, I must first see myself as His beautiful, beloved, broken bride. With the help of His Holy Spirit, I caught a glimpse of that bride in me this morning.

An earthy bride wants everything to be perfect for her special day, but Christ’s bride understands that brokenness prepares the heart for the perfection God will provide when we are finally in His presence and filled with His Son’s precious love.

Seasons of the Heart

Fall is my favorite time of year. I’m an October girl by birth and by choice. There is nothing more beautiful than the leaves of a maple leaning against an October blue sky in the mountains. I have a dear friend who grew up in New England, and she tells me I haven’t seen anything that compares to the colors of a New Hampshire fall. I put seeing one with her on my bucket list because God is never nearer to my heart than when I witness fall’s transformation. As the saying goes, “I can hear God in every season, but I can see Him in the fall!”

October is about change. Transition is part of transformation, and that rarely comes without suffering. Fall has always signaled change in my life, and often that change has been painful. This year, change involved learning to let go. Just as falling leaves make way for new ones, letting go allows my heart to make room for  the love God has in mind. When I have trouble letting go, God does the pruning for me. He knows what needs to go, but He also knows that timing is important when it comes to trimming.

I have the tendency to foster unhealthy relationships and have trouble severing ties which are not good for me. No one understands the importance of pruning better than God. This definition of synaptic pruning applies beautifully to any area of growth, and I think God would agree that it captures the essence of the important process.

“Synaptic pruning eliminates weaker synaptic contacts; stronger connections are strengthened. Experience determines which connections are pruned and the ones that have been activated most frequently are preserved. Ineffective or weak connections are “pruned” in much the same way a gardener would prune a tree or bush, creating the desired shape.” Source: klubpsychology.blogspot.com/…

God is the Creator, and I am His creation. The process of creating His desired shape for my heart takes a lifetime. That isn’t because God needs a lifetime; I do. He could make me perfect from birth, but then I would never experience the seasons of life and love that teach and transform my heart. Beauty comes from dying to self, and that is never more obvious than on a beautiful fall day.

Love goes through seasons, and each has its own beauty. The vibrant colors of fall become the clear etchings of winter, and the soft greens of spring melt into a lavish tropical display in summer. The heat of summer invites me to soak up the sun and play in the water; but fall  bids my heart to rest and grow.

I find hope in the fall, rest in the winter, awakening in the spring, and play in the summer. The seasons of my heart are very like the seasons of the year. I love the mountains of western North Carolina because we have four distinct seasons that bring beautiful growth to my world and my heart.

Fall 2007

I Am My Father’s Child

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When I took this picture of my son and his daughter, I was thinking of God’s love for me. Lillyann was fussing terribly, so Tyler held her until she settled down. The word translated “repent” at the end of Job is a Hebrew word that describes the sigh of release that comes from a child who has stopped struggling. Christ’s story of the prodigal son reminds me of that sigh. The son is ready to beg his father for a job. He is hoping for a handout but receives an embrace that surprises all. We recently finished a four-part series on Luke 15 that caused me to pause and reflect on my own longing to be embraced.

“We have all of these influences in our lives by whom we long to be embraced, but we will never be fully accepted, fully embraced in this world. Father God says, ‘I want to embrace you for your being, not for your doing. Will you come home? Will you let me embrace you?'” (Jeff Helpman-“Scandalous Grace Part Four” October 12, 2014)

Christ’s vivid image of a father running with abandon toward a son he believed to be lost models God’s love for us. He didn’t care what others thought or whether his reaction was the right one or not. Love caused him to forget and forgive all and run into his son’s arms. I’ve always loved the story and often wished my own father had been able to love me the way the father in this story loves. God reminded me that my father ran down an embankment and jumped into a muddy lake with the same abandon when he kept me from drowning the summer I was five.

Daddy didn’t say, “I love you” or embrace me tenderly; but he loved me the best way he knew how. He did his best to prepare me for the rough hands of this world. He knew I wasn’t going to make it if I couldn’t pay attention, so he had to do something. He chose corporal punishment to get my attention, and it worked. My spirit was broken, but I learned to pay attention. I loved school and ending up teaching for thirty-three years. I had a special place in my heart for those who had a hard time staying focused because I understood their struggle. I wouldn’t recommend his method of teaching, but it did give me the discipline I needed for success.

I am my father’s child in many ways. He had an insatiable curiosity and loved to learn. I am very like him in that regard, and I see a lot of him in my son and his sweet daughters. I love my father, and I’m thankful I was able to tell him that before he died. We had a rocky relationship for many decades, but we became very close before the end of his journey. I was with him when he had his stroke, and my mother insisted that I take him to the hospital. As I watched him losing his grasp on reality, I held his hand and told him what I knew he needed to hear. It is the same thing my heavenly Father wants to hear. I told him that I knew he loved me. He relaxed, and I saw relief settle into his beautiful blue eyes. It was a turning point for both our hearts.

Fall has been a time of beautiful healing in many ways. I’ve looked back in love at how my heart was handled and come to see that it was handled the best way those holding it could handle it. That may not make sense to some, but it has helped me see that we all love differently and imperfectly. Christ’s precious love is perfect, but ours never will be. That doesn’t mean we can’t try to love as Christ loves. I believe it’s what the story of the prodigal son is all about.

Breaking the Mold


Breaking Free
“Breaking the mold” is an idiom that means to stop doing something the way it’s always been done. Molds take a long time to make and a longer time to break.  My heart was molded to believe it was not worthy of love at a very young age, and it conformed to the limits of that mold for fifty-six years. It took a lot to break the grip that mold had on my heart, but God knew my heart and knew exactly how to go about breaking the mold without breaking my heart.

Labor Day has always been a turning point for me. I left my marriage of twenty-nine years on Labor Day 2002, and the holiday marked the beginning of a new school year for eighteen years of my life. It is fitting that God chose this weekend to show me that His Son’s precious love is the only thing powerful enough to break the mold holding my heart captive.

The changes this month have been hard on my heart. God knew it was time to break free of the mold on my heart, but I wasn’t prepared for the pain. He began chipping away at that mold the week mama died. He could have broken my heart’s mold with a single blow, but He knew that would damage my heart beyond repair. Instead, He shocked it awake and took it on a five-year journey that would let His Son’s precious love do what only it can.

Hindsight is crystal clear, so I see God’s plan now even though it made no sense to me at the time. He allowed me to experience love He knew would break the mold that encased my heart and free me to be who He created me to be. The breaking was more painful than anything I’ve ever known. I was as empty and exposed as I’ve ever been, but there was a beautiful difference this time. Fear was not part of the pain. For the first time, I wasn’t afraid. That was due, in part, to being numb and not caring what happened, but a bigger part was trusting God in a way I never had before. I had no choice, and that is usually when I listen and trust Him most.

Christ’s precious love grows quickly when given space, and that was the message God had for me this morning as I saw the roots of His love reaching down into the depths of my soul and the beautiful branches reaching up and out in a way that made me forget all about the broken mold out of which it was growing. I wish I had an image that captured His this morning, but I don’t. The little tree breaking through the concrete is where my heart is now, but I know with the Holy Spirit’s help, His love will be reaching down and out and up as the tree below.

Reaching out up and down

Thank You God for breaking my brokenness and opening my heart as only You can.

A Different Darkness

I love sleeping at my sister Linda’s house. I sleep ten hours and wake feeling great every time I visit. Many factors work together to create an environment perfect for sleeping, and my sister’s unconditional love is the biggest one. Another factor that intrigues me is the darkness. The room is void of light when the blinds are closed, and that is exactly what my body and mind need for a great night’s rest. Research shows I need lots of light during the day and darkness at night if I hope to achieve healthy melatonin levels and a circadian rhythm conducive to rest.

When my journey leads to a new path, I find myself in darkness. Fear normally comes as I leave my comfort zone. It’s like entering a tunnel with no end in sight. My heart underwent a big change a few weeks ago, and the path lead to unbearable darkness. I’ve never felt more alone or afraid in my life; I pleaded with God to find another way. He reminded me that He would never leave me alone and knew what was best for my heart.

God’s timing is always perfect, so I wasn’t surprised when the new path came as I was preparing to visit two of my sisters. God knows their love helps me find my balance. No one knows me like my sisters, and no one loves me the way they do. Their love is always great medicine for my body, soul, spirit, and heart. God also knows how much I love Topsail Island and how it affects my heart, so He made sure the weather was picture perfect the entire week I was there with my youngest sister Edie. The rhythm of the water rocked peace into my soul, and my sister loved me in a way that restored and renewed my heart.

I stopped at Linda’s house on the way to Topsail Island and again on the way home. God used the dark nights at Linda’s and the sunny shores at Edie’s to teach an important lesson. Darkness is different when fear is gone. Perfect love casts out fear, and that was so true during the ten days I spent with my sisters and God. I’ve come to the end of paths before, but I’ve never had the peace I had this time. My heart hurt, and I cried a lot of tears during those dark nights; but there was joy each morning, and I never once felt alone. As Lillyann would say, “God is always with us. Right Gigi?”

Right indeed little Lilly! God is always with us, and He knows exactly what we need. New paths are hard to start, but knowing God is there gives my heart the courage to move in a new direction. Living and loving will always require my heart to leave the familiar, but the darkness of a new path need not be fearful. My heart hasn’t adjusted completely to the new lighting, but its focus is upon the One who knows the way and assures me that I do not have to worry about what’s ahead. I only need to know Who I’m following. Christ’s precious love is a beautiful light in a dark tunnel, and it always will be. Sharing it with others makes the light even brighter, and that causes fear to flee and hope to surround in a way that changes the way I love.

Aches & Breaks

Healthy HeartAches and breaks don’t happen or heal the same way. Unexpected trauma breaks bones and hearts. The pain is immediate and unbearable, and shock leaves us reeling and wondering what happened!

Aches are seldom a surprise because they occur when I push my muscles beyond their limits or put them in awkward positions. I know the ache will come, but that doesn’t stop me or make the pain more bearable. The pain of an ache is slow and prolonged. Rest is best for aches and breaks, but neither hearts nor muscles want to stop doing what they are designed to do.

Heartbreaks are worse than heartaches because hope is lost in the break. The yearning of an ache hurts very deeply, but it doesn’t destroy hope. That’s the beautiful difference between the way heartbreaks and heartaches heal. My heart has been broken twice, but I’ve only experienced heartache once. I wanted to numb the pain, but I knew that would only prolong the healing and keep me from dealing with the hurt. Muscles, bones, and hearts do eventually heal, but only with God’s help. Pain is part of the process and cannot be avoided. No one knows that better than God.

Hearts and muscles grow from being stretched and broken, and the pain that comes from heartbreak and heartache will make my heart stronger if I don’t let it keep me from loving again. I can sit out when it comes to love and never hurt again, or I can give my heart the time it needs to heal and step back into love knowing that heartaches and heartbreaks are part of loving.

God is love, and He knows best when it comes to matters of the heart. He knows the pain of heartbreak and heartache better than anyone. His heart is broken every day, and He experiences heartache each time one of His children is hurting. He knows, and I am learning, that there is only one cure for heartaches and heartbreaks. Love and time heal all wounds and leave my heart stronger than it was before. There is a great deal of truth in the saying “It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”

Escape or Rescue?

Getting Off the Coaster

I was caught up in the roller coaster rescue last week because I’ve always been afraid of getting stuck on one. God used the image of riders hanging for five hours in a sharp turn far above the ground to help me see my heart was in a very similar predicament.

I can’t scream loudly enough to stop a roller coaster if I want off. I can easily catch the attention of the person controlling the Merry-Go-Round and get off; but the noise and excitement of a roller coaster drown out any pleas for help, so I’m stuck until the ride stops.

Five hours seems like a long time to be suspended in the air on a hot summer day, but God reminded me that it’s much worse for my heart to be left hanging by a thread. My heart broke when I heard Robin Williams committed suicide last night.  I imagine he simply saw it as a way to escape. I’ve been tempted to escape myself rather than allowing God to rescue my heart.

Pain will always come with living and loving, and no one understands that better than God. My heart stopped in a very dangerous curve this weekend, and I found myself screaming for the ride to stop and for someone to get me off the roller coaster. God bid me to take His hand and trust Him to rescue my heart.

What’s great for a carnival ride isn’t necessarily great for a heart. The word carnival gets its meaning from the 1540’s when folks would make merry before Lent. It literally means “flesh, farewell.” Staying on the coaster is staying in the flesh and enjoying the thrill that comes from all those unnatural highs and lows that come with the flesh. Spirit offers a very different high which lasts longer and is much stronger than the flesh. God made it clear that the ride He has in mind for my heart is much better than anything I can imagine on my own, and His rescues are always better than my escape plans.

I know it will take some time for my heart to make the transition God desires, but I also know His transformation will be just what my heart needs. While my heart heals, I plan to keep the promise He makes in Psalm 30:5 very near my heart.

“weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.” NIV

 

Redefining Fire

Flower in the AshesThere’s wreckage on the ground

With ashes all around.

Rains extinguish the flame.

Now, nothing is the same.

God’s love draws me nearer.

The path becomes clearer.

Reaching out with His hand,

He bids me to stand.

The redefining fire

Lifts me from the mire,

My heart finally free

To see the real me.

 

 

The Journey’s Ups & Downs

The Top of the World!
The Top of the World!

While having lunch with friends this week, the waitress spilled a large glass of ice water on the floor beside me. It made a loud noise, so she was the center of attention for an awkward moment. I told her it was okay, and she smiled; but I know she wanted to crawl into a corner. That’s what awkward moments do to all of us. I am painfully familiar with awkward moments and have had far more than my share, so I learned at an early age to make the best of them. I quickly made fun of myself before anyone else had the chance or let Pollyanna make lemonade from the lemons life threw at me. 

The water from that overturned glass immediately disappeared into the carpet, and the ice quickly melted away. No harm was done, and life went back to normal. As I looked at the wet carpet, I couldn’t help but wish the same were true in matters of the heart. Once it’s broken or poured out, life can never be the same. That’s a good thing, but it’s a painful mess for a while. Each bump, break, spill, or near miss strengthens my heart and brings me nearer to God. He knows brokenness and emptiness enable my heart to climb or come down from the summits on this journey. It’s human nature to want to quit when my heart is hurting, but I’m learning that giving up doesn’t have to follow giving out. Christ will help when the burden is more than I can bear. 

Pride tells me to quit, but love bids me to reach out for help. It’s good to do what I can on my own, but it’s better to let love lead me to a place of accepting help when I need it. If I don’t, I’ll give up each time I give out. No one would attempt Mount Everest without an experienced sherpa, but many walk through life afraid to ask for help. Walking in God’s kingdom is more challenging and takes far longer than a trip up the mountain, so He gives a beautiful Guide to help us along the way.

Reaching the summit isn’t for the faint of heart because as soon as the view takes my breath away, I’m left with the prospect of going back down. That’s a more daunting and more dangerous journey than the climb upward. God reminded me in His lessons this week that ups and downs are part of the journey, and I must get used to them if I want to live and love as He desires. The beauty of being at the bottom is knowing there is no where to go but up. My favorite Psalm of Ascent is 121. I cannot look to the mountain when I am standing on top of it. I am invincible on the summit, and I forget I need help. That is the most dangerous place for my heart to be. Whether I come down carefully or in one fell swoop like the water in that glass, I am in the perfect position for remembering from whence comes my help.

“I will lift up my eyes to the mountains;
From where shall my help come?
My help comes from the Lord,
Who made heaven and earth.
He will not allow your foot to slip;
He who keeps you will not slumber.
Behold, He who keeps Israel
Will neither slumber nor sleep.

The Lord is your keeper;
The Lord is your shade on your right hand.
The sun will not smite you by day,
Nor the moon by night.
The Lord will protect you from all evil;
He will keep your soul.
The Lord will guard your going out and your coming in
From this time forth and forever.”

God guards my going out and coming in and my going up and coming down. The journey will always have its ups and downs, but I take sweet comfort in knowing that Christ left a great Guide to help in both.

The beauty of the summit.

Looking at the summit. (Beijing 2008 Olympic Games)