It’s been a while since I’ve written anything here. Seems like there are hundreds of reasons why, but the one that strikes me the most is the need for silence; silence from the chatter of the world, silence from my own voice, and silence from my deafening need for accolades and approval from people. I have always tried to write what I believe God puts on my heart and I certainly wasn’t hearing anything from Him, either; at least not anything I believed I was to share with others. So, my world went silent in ways and I went into hiding. What I couldn’t decide was whether I was hiding from God, or men, or both. Moses hid in the desert for 40 years before God finally spoke to him and began revealing his plan for his life. Jonah ran from God’s call on him to preach, hiding in a ship; and well, we all know how that ended. Because of their sin, Adam and Eve hid from God in the garden after personally walking and talking with him daily. Gideon hid in a cave out of fear of his oppressors, even though God referred to him as a mighty warrior. So, why am I hiding? I’m still trying to figure that one out. No matter the reason, however, I know God has been working on me.

The past 4 years has been grueling and wonderful; exhausting and life-giving; confusing and filled with resolve.

It all started with the death of my sweet Jeff. My world turned upside down and went black. Grief wields a fiery sword that seems to plunge deeply into every vital organ–especially the heart– slicing it to shreds. I now know what it means to be truly broken-hearted. The physical pain was indescribable and the emotional pain ravaged every corner of my soul. I couldn’t run and hide from it. Life has a way of shattering the heart into a million pieces. Reeling from the shock of Jeff’s death while struggling to take the next breath and survive the moment, I could barely put two coherent words together, and sometimes my desperate choices caused others to doubt and wonder about my clarity of mind and emotion.

Some people didn’t understand. I’m more grateful than I can express for my true friends and loved ones who have stood with me and cheered me on; but there were many I lost.  The experience of losing so many I loved forced me to be utterly dependent on God, alone. I retreated within my walls of safety. Even attending church could be hard. Feeling so raw, like a walking, gaping, painful, wound, I winced at the thought of the stimulation of a group gathering. But I did it anyway, (though not every Sunday) because I knew it was the right thing to do.  Yes, my darling husband, Casey has been with me and loved me fiercely through it all. But, this was a difficult inward struggle between God and myself, and it created in me an independence that helped me insulate myself from people. I have become extremely careful with my circle and with my affections. I have found giving too much of my heart to people can be extraordinarily painful, and I can’t risk becoming bitter and hardened. So, I am more guarded. 

Maybe there’s more to all of the pain I’ve been experiencing than I realized. Recently, I read a phrase in a book by a pastor I deeply respect that said, ”  . . .God will even blind the eyes and deafen the ears of our closet friends in those moments so we can learn to minister to ourselves.” Wow. Reading that was a light bulb moment for me. Going through all kinds of loss, I had to realize God’s will was for me to strengthen MYSELF in HIM, and Him alone. For so long, I’ve known I’ve been going through a purging. But at the right moment, I finally read what someone else had put into words, and it’s been exactly what I needed. 

Thankfully, God used my imperfect journey for my own much-needed teaching moments, and I knew I was to walk this road in silence. Waiting. Listening.  I’m continuing to learn and lean. God is the master at bringing me to the end of myself. He refines with holy fire to make me ready for His purpose. Jesus said, “Blessed are those who mourn;” and “blessed are the poor in spirit.” Now I understand those statements, because I am more utterly dependent on Him than ever before. The enemy tried to sneak in and fill me with resentment, fear, anger, anxiety, bitterness, offense, and doubt. But because I held to Jesus for dear life, I can comprehend how the mourning and lack and loss are a blessing. This time, the battle with Satan was a throwdown, but he didn’t win. Hopefully, the purifying process has been successful.

 But honestly, I look at life differently, now. I am forever changed. Yes, I still have joy in my soul–the joy of the Lord that the devil can’t steal. But I’m a little wary about what’s around the next corner. I trust God, but see life through a filtered lens of grief.  The rose-colored glasses are gone. Images are a bit grayer. Outside of time with my husband and my family, I’m less likely to initiate activities with others. The world-travels and wanderlust and the spirit of adventure have given way to evenings under a blanket on the couch, drinking herbal tea, listening to quiet jazz music or some Percy Faith (yes I’m an old soul), or taking walks around my property. I know I’ve aged so much and it may be a factor, but I’ve just been tired in every way. Those quieter, safe moments feed my soul, now. I’m learning about gardening, and herbal remedies, and what foods to eat to fuel my body as I age. I’m trusting God that he will do what he says in Psalm 103:5 “He satisfies you with good things, so that your youth is renewed like the eagles.”  He’s put so much natural good food and herbal supplements on this earth, and I’ve been researching and studying about it all. I’m not trying to be 20 again, but rather to feel healthy and vibrant as I can at 60. 

Pineberries are a cross between strawberries and pineapple. They’re not a common produce item in the store.

Even as I write these things, I don’t really recognize myself. But all of this is godly and brings me contentment, and according to the book of James, godliness and contentment are the substance of great gain.

 During the past few years of lesson-learning, I also believed God wanted me to back away from any form of trying to “promote.” Posting on social media became increasingly infrequent. I had been so loud and so vocal about “all the things.” I wanted to be top in sales. I wanted to be an “influencer.”  But now, I sensed I was in a season of change and needed to be quiet. So, when asked to be part of podcasts or zoom interviews, I politely declined. I even helped start a women’s ministry in a church and had to step away almost immediately. I jumped in and realized I wasn’t ready and it wasn’t God’s time for me to be in leadership. I began retreating more and more until all the invitations, all the accolades, all the pursuits diminished and I was left with only God …. and long silence. People kept asking if I was ok and telling me they missed how I used to write and encourage with my words. But it was as if I had a continuous writers block. I realized I didn’t have to tell everyone what was going on, or how God was or wasn’t moving in my life, or the revelations He imparted to me, or the lessons I was learning. And I have found I am really ok with that. Maybe God will do all the things I was dreaming of through my sons or my grandchildren. I’m more than ok with that, too. 

I don’t know what God has planned. It may be that I am to continue just as I have been these past four years, trusting and living day to day in my own quiet life; building our dream barndominium.

                                                                                      It’s coming along!

Perhaps I will travel a little again. Perhaps I will take the speaking stage again or write another book. Maybe I’ll write devotionals. Maybe I’ll just create a little digital space where women can join me who just want to chill and talk about Jesus and life and cooking and recipes and gardening and hormones.

                  I pick my own dandelions, dry them, and make my own tea! Much more affordable!

Maybe I’ll host retreats. As long as it compliments my sweet little job as a church admin assistant, I’m open. I’ve got quite a few little ideas running around in my head like squirrels. Whatever He wants, He will bring it to pass, and I won’t strive for it. And whatever it is, I want it to be fun and stress-free. I’ve had enough of stress.  

I’m going to Michigan in October for a speaking engagement at a church.  A woman saw my website, and contacted me out of the clear blue. Besides speaking, I will be meeting with elders and leadership about how to combat abuse in Christian marriage within the church. I hope I can help, and I hope victims will feel some encouragement and support. But more than anything, I hope everyone will see me stripped bare of myself and that Jesus pours from my veins like water. I hope Jesus is the central focus and not abuse and victimization. He’s the only true healer, counselor, perfect husband, and advocate, anyway. We’ll see where it all leads. It’s in His hands.

Through it all, I know that my name is graven on the hand of my Father, and written on his heart. He’s collected all my tears in a bottle. Those tears, along with my prayers, faltering and weak as they may have been, have been counted as incense before him. I’ve been waiting in the desert with Moses, fearful in the cave with Gideon, hiding in shame in the garden with Adam and Eve, and crying out in the belly of the fish with Jonah. And though He may have been silent, God has not left me. 

And He never will. After all, it was He who said, “And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” 

New days are here now, and I want to embrace all He has for me in this life. I’m trusting him more than ever.