Faith, Hope & Love

No, I am not getting this tattoo, however cool it is!  All my friends can relax now : )

FAITH- I have questioned where God is.  I have questioned why He would allow my mom's life to end the way it did.  I have questioned why He would allow my friends to be hurt, wrongly accused and their lives to be up-rooted.  I have questioned why I have had to suffer so much physically.  I have questioned why ALL the pain and difficulty in a short period of time.

While circumstances have caused my faith to waver at times and question God, it has not been severed.

HOPE - a few years ago it seemed as if life began to pile struggle after struggle on my head, finally culminating in my admission of needing help.  Every anchor in my life was disrupted and it has altered my life.  There were times when I felt like hope was a distant memory.  In those times I clung to the truths I knew would anchor me from God's Word.  That He will never leave me, that He loves me, that He is my Rock.  That hope is anchored in the Cross.

While circumstances caused my hope to dim, it was never severed.

LOVE - in the midst of these trials, my head has not doubted the Lord's love for me.  Because of the simple fact that he died for me and because of that, I can spend eternity, undeservingly, with him in Heaven.  

The love of family and friends is a security that I am not sure I could live without.  God should be enough but He also created us to be relational beings.  There have been a few of these friends, who are like family, that have walked difficult and fun moments with me.  We have shared each others hurts and rejoiced in each others victories.

While circumstances have changed "doing life together", either by death or location, it has not severed that love.  Because it is grounded in Jesus.

"And now these three remain:  faith, hope and love.  But the greatest of these is love."

Growing up the "coach's daughter"

One of the reasons I went into the profession that I have is because of my dad.  There are both negative and positives growing up the way I did.  EVERYONE knew who you were.  EVERYONE knew what you did.  EVERYONE had certain expectations of you.  EVERYONE had access to my mom and dad.

When I was younger, I didn't know any different.  Our house was always full of people, whether it was missionaries or people visiting BBC, or more often then not, my dad's players.  (by the way, that clearly didn't come in handy in the dating world, as I am still single!) My dad traveled almost all summer with the Defender 5, a group of basketball players who used sport as a ministry.  Sometimes our family went with them, but more then not, we didn't.  And as anyone growing up with a parent who coached, you know what the season is like!  But this was our life and it impacted me a lot.

I watched my mom serve, cook for all the boys, take care of us three kids while dad was gone, go to my games, go back to school and all of the other countless things she did to minister to others.  To be honest, there were times when I didn't like the fact that dad was gone so much.  I wanted him at MY games.  But I watched him use sport as a ministry and that also became my passion.  I knew in middle school that I wanted to do something similar.  I saw the lives that were encouraged and impacted by what he did.

Now that I am older and watch "his guys" from afar, often times on Facebook, I am thankful for a mom and dad who followed the path God had for them.  Sure, other people influenced these men and women, but I am blessed by hearing how my dad played a part in their lives.

My 80's college reunion is happening this weekend.  I will miss the big party, but hopefully can see some friends over the weekend.  But as I am watching some of these guys come back and go see dad and write such kind words about him, it makes all those times when he was gone or at a game, worth it.  It also is a reminder to me to thank those who influenced me (or tried to!) as I was in college and afterwards.

So thanks to all my "big brothers" who have stopped by to say hi to dad or have written kind notes.  I will make sure he sees them.

It was a SHARP marking pen!

Today I went for an MRI for my hip, as well as an injection, to help diagnose what exactly is wrong and what we need to do to fix it.  I am pretty claustrophobic and did not look forward to another closed MRI experience.  I usually take some drugs to help with the potential panic attacks that might occur.  But, alas, I did great!  No sweating, no images of being enclosed and trapped in a machine that will continue to close its walls around me, and no hyperventilating.

That may have been because I had a warm blanket, earplugs, headphones with country music playing and a wash cloth covering my eyes.  Not to mention the tech lady checking in every few minutes.  Or, we can chalk it up to the prayers and pleadings on my behalf to the Lord.

Now to the headline of this post ...

I am then ushered into a small, operating-type room where I have to have an injection while using the ex-ray machine.  This is so that the doc can make sure he gets the needle/tube into the right spot in my hip and release the medication.  Of course, being my sometimes funny self, I am joking around with the doc and nurses.  30 second time-out here:  my friend who drove me (more on that later) said she could hear me laughing when they opened the door to the hallway!

They prep my skin and all of a sudden I twitch and tighten up thinking he had stuck a needle in me to numb the area.  Yeah......that was just the marker marking the spot where the needle needed to go in! I insist, as they are all laughing, that it was a really sharp pointed marker and that maybe they needed to get a softer one for the next person.  The doctor clearly acknowledged his need to warn me next time anything touched my skin.

I live through the experience, leave my new friends and head out to the waiting room.  By this time I am starving and in great need of coffee, so we head out to breakfast before heading home.  I didn't understand why I couldn't have driven myself, although I admit that the company was nice to have.

After a few minutes I figure it out ...  my entire thigh from hip to top of knee is numb!  I guess they figure it wouldn't be a good idea if people drove in that condition.

So all in all, I lived through the experience with minimal discomfort.  That is until the numbing wears off!

Oh, and my dog JACK likes sweet tea.  How could I know that while resting outside and recovering from my rough morning that he would start drinking out of me glass of tea?  Good thing he didn't leave any backwash.

Do as I say, not ...

So I tell my students in our social media course, for sport, that they have to blog on a regular basis in order to draw awareness and gain a following.  As you can tell I clearly don't follow my own advice! I haven't posted in forever!  Therefore my "following" is slim!

I could say its because nothing has happened lately for me to write about; or that I'm busy writing my own papers that I don't have time; or that I have such a busy social life that I'm preoccupied!  But alas, I just haven't taken the time to write.

Most of you on FB have already seen this video, so no need to watch again.  I am just following another piece of advice to my students and that is that people want pictures and videos!  Most do not want to read the long ramblings of us "wanna-be-writers"!  But if I throw up a pic or video of me making fun of my dog, etc.  you will read!  Or so statistics say.

"JACK" is my new dog and he is small, somewhat "barky" dog who on occasion obsessively bites at things he "sees" in the air.  He may be a candidate for the Dog Whisperer.  Jack's previous owners sent me his "winter clothes".  I have sworn I will NEVER become THAT person who puts a sweater on my dog!  Well I had to do it just for the fun of it.  After being very sure-footed and as fast as a cheeta, Jack was pathetic in his booties!  He stumbled around, lifted his paws like he had gum on the bottom of his "shoes", and just all-around could NOT walk right.

It, of course, made me laugh hysterically!  One of those laughs where you can't breath and your stomach hurts.......I'm hoping in the process that I lost a couple of pounds.  Couldn't hurt.

However, it made me think of my own walk at times.  Physically I use to walk and run with confidence and very sure-footed, never thinking of stepping on a rock, or stumbling or running into someone. I was very stable.  Now I am VERY aware of how I step and walk.  Sometimes unsteady and always watching where I am stepping, fearful of what will happen if I trip or bump into someone.
Years and times of playing hard and abusing my body as an athlete has worn my body down. SOMETIMES I need to rely on doctors, therapists and medication to get through a day.

Spiritually I am the same way.  At times my path seems unsure, with "rocks" in my pathway.  I walk with an awareness that I'm not very steady, that I need something to grab hold of.  What I grab hold of needs to keep me, not only steady and stable, but also on the right path no matter how steep, rocky or straight it may be.  No matter how difficult life is, no matter how many heartaches or how many times I abuse my spiritual body/faith with doubts, fears, questions, anger, worries...you name it.  DAILY I need to rely on Jesus (my healer), the Holy Spirt (my therapist) and God's Word (my medication) to get through a day.  Yet sometimes I grab hold of things that aren't helpful.

Just like I don't always do what I am suppose to physically, I don't spiritually either.  I then stumble, step on things I shouldn't, take a turn in the path that isn't helpful or just plain sit down and not move. I'm working on this.....is all I can say.

Thankfully no one is videoing me in action and laughing while I stumble!  My friends see it, but keep no record and neither does Jesus.  Sorry Jack!

Garage/Moving Sales

A few thoughts and stories from this weekend .....

1.  People watching at garage sales is facinating!  More on this later.

2.  When you say a sale starts on a specific day and people come while you are setting up the night before ... After being in a car for 11 hours is ....... Annoying.

3.  They are just plain exhausting.

4.  There are "professional garage salers".  They come back multiple times and know who to go to in order to get a deal.  There is always one "week link" in the group!  Haha ... Guess whose ours was? I will never tell.

5.  I'm amazed at what people will buy.

A couple of stories:

We had a TON of quilting and sewing stuff.  Bin and bins full.  It only takes the right person.  A lady who is part of a quilting group came by and bought a LOT of stuff and was so excited, including my moms sewing table, desk, etc.  that we haven't even brought out of the house yet.  Another lady came who sews came by and bought a bunch of sewing bins .. And bins ... And, you get the point of how much my mom had!  But they were both sooo excited to get it all and we are happy that someone else can use it, and loved what my mom did.  I'm sure she is thrilled.

Francis and Francis .... Are two ladies I met early on day one.  Mother and daughter, and yes, they are both names Francis.  They came back four times over the weekend!  Hilarious!  Well they became my friends.  Come to find out, the mom use to live one street over from where I grew up.  I'm sure they love each other, but they sure picked at each other a lot!  Big Francis told me numerous times that she is a spiritual woman and how good God has been to her.  However, she doesn't mess with people who do bad things, has never fallen in 85 years, gives her granddaughters whatever they ask for, and told me what a great mom I would be!  All this while Little Francis would roll her eyes behind her mom! And tease her mercilessly. They also bought a few things on each visit.

Last one ... a lady told my brother her story.  She almost lost her house and in the process sold all of her things in it.  She ended up not losing it, but now has to re-fill it, so was going to a bunch of garage sales.  Once the story had circulated our family, discounts began.  Mom would have loved that.

We were able to donate what didn't sell, and after a few dumpster runs, everything is gone but what dad needs till the house sells.  I kept thinking how hard it must have been for him to watch this happen, but he did great, and my brother and fam and I did our best to love on him in the process.

NO, the dog is not for sale!

Surviving vs Thriving

One of my favorite moments this summer was driving back to Ohio from PA with my 11 year old nephew.  My car was packed to the gills with things from my parents home.  So Deacon had to sit in the seat with luggage at his feet.  Poor dude had no room for 8 hours!

While driving we sang along to the radio.  I noticed after awhile that he knew every Christian song that came on.  He says, "well Aunt Lori, I DO listen to music", when I asked him how he knew all of them.  After a conversation of country music, which he had very astute observations about, we went back to singing worship songs.

Singing loud and not caring, I belted out a few lines of the song about how we were made to thrive, not just survive.  Well, I thought it was,  "we were made to FLY" and so I sang that loud and proud!  Being his ever so kind and gracious self, Deacon corrected me .... After, of course laughing at me!  "I think it's suppose to be thrive Aunt Lo".  We had a good laugh, decided thrive and fly were similar and kept on singing.

Which brings me to my blogging point though.  I have been thinking a lot now about surviving vs thriving and what that looks like, especially after difficult times.  I've mentioned a few times about what a very difficult time the last 2 years now have been.  While still working through the "tunnel", I at least see the light at the end now.  It has been a time of surviving a day at a time.

One of the definitions of survive is:  to continue to exist.  At times, all we CAN do, is exist.  Life has thrown us/me some "breaking balls" (instead of curve balls!) - yes, my sport analogy, and I have struck out a lot lately.  Sometimes it's all we can do to get up each day and just survive until,we can go to bed and shut it all out ... Only to begin again the next day.  However, somehow the fact that we get up the next day is victory in itself.  God, in his graciousness and often without us acknowledging it at the time, gives us the strength we need for each day.  But after while surviving isn't enough.  It'
s sad, lonely and unfulfilling.    God wants us to thrive ...

To thrive is to grow or flourish ... Succeed, often in spite of circumstances.  To progress or realize a goal despite or because of circumstances.  During these times we are to grow.  Apart from the grace of God and the love and support of friends, I don't know how we do that.  Often I don't even see the growth but have to rely on those friends walking with me, to point it out, until I can see through the darkness myself.

So what is the goal that I am to be progressing towards? Become more like Jesus ... Love him more ... Love others more ... depend, trust and have faith in God ... I'm sure there are more.  In the midst of losing my mom, back surgery, changes in work setting, walking through difficult times with a friend, packing a house full of memories ... Etc.  I'd like to think I am finally starting to thrive some.

Or maybe even FLY eventually!

Definition of a home

The definition of "home", is "one's place of residence, the social unit formed by a family living together, a familiar or usual setting, focus of one's domestic attention;  also a place where you are comfortable or relaxed".

The definition of "house", is "a building that serves as living quarters for a family, a building in which something is housed, a shelter or refuge for wild animals".

I have been thinking a lot about "home" this summer.  I have lived in so many places over the years that it seems like all of those places can't be called home.  Until coming to Ohio, whenever I said I was going home, it referred to where I grew up, where my parents house now is, in PA.  Most of those other places, according to the definitions above, were just "houses"... A place where I lived at the time.

That home in PA is where all of those family memories are/were ... There was always a sense of security in the fact that I could always go "home".  Now that mom has passed away, it has no longer felt like home.  It's just been a place where dad lives for now.  It has felt more like a "house".  As we packed up the house this summer I had this panicked thought of, "I no longer have a home to go to".  Well that's really not true.

Sure, we make our houses, homes, by decorating them, doing life, making memories, socializing, etc.  but they are still just houses.  Homes are places where we feel relaxed, safe and comfortable, where our friends and family are.  What makes our houses "homes"?

Family
Friends
A familiar place
Where we feel safe
Where we can relax and be ourselves

Home is people, houses are memories.