Spiritual Vitamins

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It seems that lately I’ve had so many questionable feelings, to the point where I can feel no more; only numbness.  The conflicting emotions have slowed my brain like a drug, taking over the realization that it is my turn to lead this dance.  Instead, I find myself waltzing around in a circle of confusion, battling myself every step of the way.  It’s as though a civil war has erupted inside of me and I’m frozen right in the crossfire of my own thoughts.  I sit here lost in the whirlwind of arrows buzzing by, not knowing which one is pointing in the right direction.  I try to find my way, but the smoke from the bombardment of mixed feelings has stolen my sense of direction and is slowly smothering me.  I run this way and that, finding myself advanced to the front line, where there are no more trenches to shelter me from the battle, only an open field of illusional freedom staring me in the face.

I wrote that sixteen years ago, as a senior in high school who was facing graduation and the prospect of going out into the world on my own for the first time.  I share it with you today because, to me, it illustrates what life looks like when facing it without God…or at least a life without leaning on His strength, power, and wisdom for help and guidance.   It is a painting of a battle met in confusion and ending in defeat because it is one that we can only recognize and win in Him.  It is the battle that is raging all around us for our hearts, our minds, and our souls - the spiritual warfare that the Bible speaks of and warns us about...

A Gift From Above

“You know what I long for, Lord; you hear my every sigh…” (Psalm 38:9)

As I opened my eyes to the morning light streaming through my bedroom blinds, I quickly realized it was just a dream.  With the name “Rebecca Grace” still ringing in my ears, I re-closed my eyes and, in hope of falling back into that glorious state, began thinking back through the visions that had just moments before played out in my mind while slumbering so peacefully – visions that had filled my whole being with a happiness that had brought forth real tears of joy -tears in which were now trickling slowly down my cheeks. 

While dabbing at those tears with the sheets, the light from the room in my dream filled my mind once more.  Its soft white glow, like that which streaks through a wall of clouds in the sky when the sun’s moved behind them, lit the rooms surroundings, giving all the details and the edges of it that familiar, fuzzy, dream-like appearance.  Though I was wide awake this time, all the contents of the room again sprang into view - from the stark white color that seemingly poured over everything from floor to ceiling, to the two woman, who were also clothed in white, that were moving quietly but purposefully about the room preparing.  Then there was me on a bed, where I had sat peacefully, comfortably, and silently in the dream, watching and wondering just who these two women were and what were they preparing for – two questions for which I now already knew the answers to.  They were the two Mary’s…the two from the Bible…the two who were with Jesus through His crucifixion on the cross, and they were there to deliver a baby…for me…a baby girl who they’d call Rebecca Grace as they’d handed her into my arms.

Again, tears welled up in my eyes and spilled over, only this time I let them freely flow.  Opening my eyes, I quietly peeled back the covers and tiptoed over to my desk.  I had to know.  Why Rebecca Grace? ...

Not My Goliath

It was a Friday evening, late in the five o’clock hour, the tenth day of the month.  I remember it like it was yesterday – the day and time my labor for my daughter began.  It had been a sunny day, blue skies, little in the way of clouds - warm for a spring day in April…for North Idaho that is.  My husband had come home and taken me out to lunch at one of our favorite joints – Red Robin.  I ordered the chicken teriyaki sandwich with fries and tartar and distinctly remember feeling like every person’s eyes in that restaurant were on me, casting their disgusted looks my way, and shaking their heads in horror as the waitress set down my plate.  In my head I heard them saying, “How could she have ordered that when she can barely even fit into the booth?!”  Which was true, my stomach was uncomfortably touching the table in front of me, but it was me, not the other diners that had been casting the disgusted looks…well, they could’ve been too, I don’t know because in my shame I hadn’t even looked up beyond my plate, never mind into their eyes.  Gaining seventy pounds when the normal weight gain of a pregnancy is twenty to thirty can tend to do that to a girl, yet here I was eating a giant plate of fattening food four days after my due date anyway.

It was a nice gesture on my husband’s part though – him wanting to take me out.  It was supposed to be a treat – one last hoorah for the two of us to do something together before the baby came.  There wasn’t much conversation going on however.  My husband was self-employed in an industry that the downturn in the economy was not kind too.  There hadn’t been consistent work since before the snow had hit that winter.  Our savings were gone.  Little to no work was lined up for the future.  Taxes were due in five days.  We had no idea how we were going to pay them.  We owed thousands.  We also had no rent money beyond May…yet here we were, about to have our first child…and eating out like we didn't have a care in the world , but in truth, we had no idea what we were doing...