3 Invitations From God on the Road to Forgiving Community Wounds

Sweet community in my living room.  Fresh air to my heart.

True Body-of-Christ community is wonderful and life-giving.

But if you've done this whole "life together" thing for very long, you know that it can also be one of our greatest sources of pain, because every community is made up of broken, messy, imperfect humans.  

And I don't think we'll ever do it exactly right or be free from all of the messiness.

In community, opportunities to forgive and extend grace to our fellow humans are numerous.  I've personally had more than a couple of devastating experiences within the context of church community.  

I know stories like mine are common.

Past wounds from community that go unhealed or unforgiven create a filter in our hearts that skews the way we experience our current community situations.  But God has some of His sweetest invitations for us hidden within these painful places, and within His subsequent challenge to us to forgive.

As we intimately encounter our Father's heart in the places of pain in our own heart, whether from the past or the present, we can begin to see situations, and every heart involved, from His perspective.  

It's from that place of intimacy with Him that we can walk forward into true forgiveness.  And simultaneously, into freedom and healing.

Here are the 3 step-by-step invitations that I believe God lovingly extends to us as we walk through pain in the midst of doing life together with other believers:

1. He asks us to look away from our hurt and the ones who've done the hurting, and fix our eyes on Him.

He is the One who is unchanging, even when our dearest relationships are shaken.  He whispers to our hearts: Look to me. Take your eyes off of your circumstances, and let Me bring peace and stillness to your scarred heart.  Trust Me.  Meditate on My character, My faithfulness to your heart, My unconditional love for you.  Find your identity in My heart toward you, and not in the words of those who've hurt your heart.  My voice over you is the one that matters right now.  

2. He calls to us to hold our hearts open before Him.  To choose not to numb the pain by shutting our hearts down.  To trust Him to be the healing balm that tenderly covers our hurting places.

We have a Father who deeply loves us and is passionately committed to our wholeness.  We can rest in this truth.  After community has hurt our heart, we may need to spend lots of time alone with Him for a season, pouring out our heart and our pain and our tears before Him.

Raw, openhearted, honesty with God that flows out of a place of trust even in the face of great pain is one of the sweetest forms of worship to His heart.  

"Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted."  -Matthew 5:4 

"The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." -Psalm 34:18

I believe there is a unique intimacy with God that comes in seasons like these when we allow ourselves simply to mourn before Him for a time.  When we choose not to "shove" our raw emotions, but instead, to pour out our heart to a Father who is tenderly attentive to our every cry.   

These moments in my personal history have forever changed and deepened my walk with Jesus.

After a time, He takes our hand and leads us out of that season of acute pain and we begin to move forward with Him.  

Healing comes in stages.

3. He invites us to share in His heart, see with His perspective, and experience His compassion for those who've wounded our hearts.

This can be the toughest part: remembering that our battle isn't against flesh and blood (Ephesians 6:12), that it's not ultimately people who are out to destroy our hearts - it's the enemy.  People are broken, hurting, and they hurt others out of the unhealed places in their own hearts.  

As difficult and painful as it may be to ask, seek God for His perspective on those who've hurt you.  Ask Him for His heart of compassion for them.  Ask Him for wisdom to know how best to love and bless them (Matthew 5:44).  

Knowing and experiencing His heart toward those who've sinned against you is another facet of the intimacy with Him into which He invites us as we walk toward healing.

Out of this place of experiencing the heart of God for those who've hurt our hearts, real, genuine, gut-level forgiveness can begin to happen inside of us.  And our hearts can move toward freedom.

When the pain has been deep, forgiveness usually comes gradually, in layers.  It takes time.  

But it does come, as we surrender our hearts to His healing process within us.  As we look at the offenses against us in light of the cross, in light of the scandelous, extravagant goodness of the Gospel.   In light of all that we've been forgiven.

He is so committed to walking this process out with us.  Our hand wrapped in His... our heart wrapped in His.  And the intimacy with Him that comes from sharing in the fellowship of His sufferings brings the deepest comfort, intimacy, and healing.

This is not a "you'd-better-suck-it-up-and-choose-to-forgive" kind of forgiveness (though forgiveness IS a choice).  This is forgiveness that's motivated out of the secret place of intimacy, out of trust in the Father to cover and heal our wounds.  It's forgivness that comes as we move in close to His heart and experience His empowering grace.

Let's trust His committment to heal our hearts, friends, and walk forward into forgiveness together.   This is the path to true freedom.

~~~

**Pulled this out of the archives and spruced it up for today. :) Thanks for extending grace!  Busy last week working on my new e-book, which is launched, FREE, and available for download when you subscribe to my monthly-ish newsletter here: 

Stillness Manifesto: A Call to NON-Action

(Complete with Step-by-Step NON-Instructions).

Stillness Manifesto is a call to rediscover the practice of stillness as a facet of our life in God.  Experiencing Him in this way has radically changed my walk with Him, and I am so excited to share these truths, ideas, and non-instructions with you!

~~~

**RELATED: How I Lost My Best Friend [God Crafts Hope in Secret Places]**

For When Your Dreams Are Dying [And MY FIRST E-BOOK! My GIFT to YOU!]

Wow!  Big day around here!

I'm guest posting at the Better Mom!  So fun!

ALSO...

I'm officially launching my first eBook today, and I'm so excited to share it with you!

Stillness Manifesto:

A Call to NON-Action

(Complete with Step-By-Step NON-Instructions)

Stillness Manifesto is my FREE gift to you.  Click here for info.

And now...

For When Your Dreams Are Dying

Since my husband and I were engaged, we’ve dreamed of having large family.  10-ish kids was our plan.  Some biological, some adopted.  

But our 2 attempts to foster-to-adopt and our 4 total pregnancies have left us with only 1 child.  One on Earth, anyway.  

3 in Heaven.

We also have a domestic adoption in progress.  14 months in, and we’ve not had so much as a nibble yet.  Definitely didn’t expect to be waiting this long.

And at age 32 with a hubby who’ll soon turn 35, and one (albeit amazing) 2-and-a-half-year-old little guy running sprints through our house, the fulfillment of these dreams is looking unlikely. 

In this season, our longings and plans seem to be slipping like sand through our fingers, like seeds that must go into the ground and die in order to bear fruit (John 12:24).

~~~~

So blessed to have the privilege of guest posting over at The Better Mom.  

Inviting you to hop on over and finish reading. :)

(Don't forget to come back and get your copy of Stillness Manifesto!)

The Courage of Not Burying Hope in a Dresser Drawer

**Quick addendum: I seem to be having problems with the comment link today from the "home" page of the blog.  If you click where it says "no comments" above (under the title), you'll see the comments.  :)  (If you got here by way of link directly to this post -as opposed to the home page-  you should see comments at the bottom.)  Working on figuring this out.  Thanks for grace today friends!**

So there's this shirt that lives in the top drawer of my 2-and-a-half-year-old's dresser.

It stayed at the bottom of the drawer for the longest time, buried under 20-or-so others.

Never worn.

Well, never by my son anyway.  It was my nephew's, and my sis-in-law graciously passed it on to us along with a box of other hand-me-downs.  I'm always thrilled to get clothes from them, and this t-shirt was no exception.

"He'll wear it soon," I thought.  I was so excited for when he would.

I stuck it underneath all his other shirts though.  It wasn't time yet.

In March, I found out I was pregnant.  Saw that +  sign just days before I was scheduled to go visit my parents in North Carolina.

Pulled out that long-awaited t-shirt and stuck it in the suitcase as I packed.

I planned to have Isaac wear it the day after we arrived.  To wait for my parents to notice and react.  I was beside myself with excitement.

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

I started bleeding the night before we were supposed to leave for NC.

My pregnancy announcement looked very different than I'd planned.  More like, "Mom and Dad, I'm pregnant but I think I'm miscarrying."

I lost my baby while at my parents' house.  

Isaac never wore the shirt.

It stayed in our suitcase.

Fast forward a week.  I arrived home from NC.  Unpacked the suitcase.  The shirt went back in Isaac's dresser with all the others.  

And as I unpacked, I sensed this loving challenge from the Father: "Dana, don't bury it.  Don't bury your hope."

Ouch. 

I wanted to put it in the bottom of the drawer.  I didn't want to notice it every day when I picked out clothes for my boy.

Didn't want the constant reminder of this massive longing, still unfulfilled.

But I obeyed the nudge.  The shirt stayed near the top of the stacks.

In the last couple of weeks, 2 birth moms have chosen other families.  Our adoption wait continues.  

Again, the desire to bury the shirt underneath all the others.  Out of sight, out of mind.

And again, the choice to keep it near the top.


This Path Is SO Not Safe

Sunday at church, our pastor mentioned Hannah, from the Old Testament.  How she waited and prayed and cried out to God continually for a son.  

For years.

How she so acutely felt the longing for a child, that Eli, the temple priest, thought she was drunk as she poured out her heart to the Lord.

How she chose to hold her desires before God with an open heart.  Chose not to allow bitterness to creep in.

Hannah had some serious courage.

It takes courage to allow an unmet longing to lie open before the Lord (Psalm 38:9).

It takes courage to allow yourself to continue to feel the weight of your desires.  To ache.  To long.  To weep.  To wait.

To hold out hope for what seems like an eternity.

Heart and hands shaking, I walked to the front of our sanctuary Sunday morning and shared what I feel is an invitation from the Lord to us who wait, to us whose God-given dreams have yet to become reality:

There is a unique intimacy with Jesus to be found here.

Allowing the depths of our longings to lie open before Him is a profound expression of trust in our God.  

Trust that He is holding our hearts, collecting our tears, gently sustaining us as we wait.  Trust that He will catch and hold and tenderly mend all our broken pieces.  That He will really, deeply be Enough for our hearts.

Shutting down our longings is much less risky.  Numbness and bitterness can feel like a safe zone.  Feeling our longings is scary.

We're terrified the pain might be more than we can bear up under.

Yet choosing the "safe" path means missing out on deepened trust.  Missing out on knowing Him in the depth of intimate friendship that He so wants to extend to us in the place of our aching.

When we choose the safe path, a piece of our heart dies.  Numbing ourselves to pain means numbing ourselves to joy, to love, to trust.

To Him.

But the pain and risk of allowing our longings to lie open, raw before Him, become the open door that allows His comfort to come in and tenderly embrace our hearts.



The Sweetest Thing in the World

Why does God invite us to hold out hope for dreams that He might never choose to fulfill?

I'd like to believe that when a dream aligns with God's heart, He always promises to bring it to fruition if we wait long enough.

But that's not true.

He doesn't always fulfill our dreams, or meet our expectations.

Yet He asks us to hope.

And He works all things, all things, together for our good (Romans 8:28).

In the waiting, the longing, He is after our good.  In inviting us to hope for dreams that may never come to fruition, He is after our good.

"How can this be? All things for my good?  ALL THINGS?  REALLY Lord!?"

It's the cry of my heart sometimes, in the moments when I wonder if part of me will be crushed by the pain of  unfulfilled hope.  Of continual disappointment. 

But intimately knowing His nearness in our heart's most tender places?  It really IS our ultimate good. 

And not in an "I know this must be what's best for me so I'm just going to suck it up and choose to believe that it's God's will for me somehow" kind of way, either.

Friend, His comfort in the ache of those raw, unmet longings becomes the sweetest thing in the world.  

Literally.  Tangibly.

It really does.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted (Matthew 5:4).

Blessed.  

Truly.  Sweetly.  Deeper than words.  I am.

So the shirt will stay near the top of my son's dresser drawer.

And hope will stay at the forefront of my heart.

By His sustaining grace, I will refuse to let it be buried.

To quote Brennan Manning in his book Ruthless Trust: "To live without risk is to risk not living."

I want a fully alive heart.  And I want to know the depths of His heart.

So I'll say no to the safe path.

How about you?

~~~~~

If you're finding encouragement here and you don't want to miss out on future posts, could I invite you to hop up to the top of the right sidebar and enter your email address in that box?  Only takes a sec, and you'll be subscribed to receive every post via email.  I usually post 3 times per week.

~~~A Brief Note~~~

One of my favorite (if not my absolute favorite) EVER authors passed away last week.  Brennan Manning wrote Abba's Child and Ruthless Trust - 2 books that have wrecked me over the years, in a very good way.  Abba's Child in particular radically changed my life back in 2005.  I've read it multiple times since.

A friend of my husband's and mine wrote a great blog post highlighting and honoring Brennan's life/writings.  Very worth your read.  I'm personally planning to read more of Brennan's writings in the near future.

Anyway, here's that blog post by our friend Josh.  Have a look.

I'll leave you with one more Brennan Manning quote, this one from Abba's Child:

"Define yourself radically as one beloved by God.  This is the true self.  Every other identity is illusion.  God's love for you and His choice of you constitute your worth.  Accept that, and let it become the most important thing in your life."

This is my blessing for you all today.  May you define yourself radically as one beloved by your Father.

Because oh, how you are.

For When Your Hope Feels Bent and Bruised

         

A bruised reed He will not break, and a faintly burning wick He will not quench.  He will faithfully bring forth justice.

-Isaiah 42:3- 

When the storms have bent and bruised your hope... 

Where your heart has bowed low, given in to the pounding weight of the deluge...

Friend, may you find courage to turn toward Him again as a flower to the sun.

May you know Him intimately as the lifter of your head, your heart, your hope.

May you have grace to trust, to let Him in, as He comes to tenderly straighten out your bent places.

May you experience Him as the faithful Bringer of Justice to your heart.

the Repairer of Hope.

the Rebuilder of Dreams.

the Restorer of Joy.

~

~

~

~
~

Asking Jesus to breathe new hope and courage into each of your hearts this weekend.

Be so blessed, friends, and so alive.

PS. Want to receive posts in your inbox?  Scroll to the top of the right side bar and stick your email address in that little box. :)  Free.  Simple.

PPS.  If you'd like to receive e-newsletters from Moments and Invitations on a monthly-ish basis, click here.  In my newsletter, I'll be able to share a little more intimately than I can on the blog.  Info like book process updates, glimpses into my family/church family, and a short devotional based on what the Lord's highlighted to me recently.

Thanks for journeying here a bit today.  You are so very appreciated.

How I Lost My Best Friend [God Crafts Hope In Secret Places]

Last year, I lost my best friend.

I know that sounds dramatic, but this was no joke.  I really did.  

We had been best friends from age 20, had "grown up" together.  12 years of history:  Laugh-till-you-cry inside jokes, shared pain, mingled blood, sweat, tears.  It seemed like it was all swirling, unpreventably rushing down the drain.  

Becoming nothing but memories that shot my heart through, that made me wince upon every recollection.

Huge issues had arisen - issues that profoundly impacted both her heart and mine.  Problems that were much, much bigger than just she and I.   Many of those dear to us were affected.  Relationships that spanned years and years were strained, pulled apart.

And my friend and I?  We lived in separate states and experienced the situation so very differently.  We simply could not arrive at perspectives that lined up with each other.  

Believe me.  We tried.  Hard.

No headway.  Only damaged trust.

And since our hearts were so deeply invested in our unique perspectives, we found our friendship caving in around us.

I couldn't believe what was happening.  I was losing my best friend.  Neither of us had ever dreamed this was possible. That anything would ever have the power to tear us apart.

I think I was in shock.  In shock, and brokenhearted.

I was convinced: our friendship was over.  Probably for good.  I didn't see, at all, how God could possibly resurrect our relationship, our trust in one another, our "I-can-completely-be-myself-around-you" wide open hearts.

"Maybe we can try to talk again in 5 or 10 years." The thought was my last-ditch effort to hold onto some small degree of hope as our final attempts at open communication failed.

And then, there was nothing but silence between us.  The silence cut deep.

In March, I found out I was pregnant.  Under normal circumstances, she would have been one of my first phone calls.  The heart-agony of not being able to invite my long-time friend to celebrate with me was acute, even in the midst of my joy.  

Then I miscarried.  Again, couldn't call her.  Couldn't process with her.  Couldn't allow her to mourn with me.

Everything reminded me of her.  This song, that picture, this restaurant, that type of car.  Memories were plentiful.  Living in the city where she and I spent so much time together throughout our early and mid 20's, I couldn't escape them.

And I think part of me didn't want to.

It was the memories that made me feel... that let me know my heart was still alive.  Alive in general, and alive toward her.  They were piercingly painful reminders of how much I loved her.  How our hearts were knit.  How she was a part of who I am.  

David and Jonathan.  Our hearts were like that.  And as much as one half of my heart wanted to just "be okay," to move on with my life and ignore the absence of this "sister of my heart,"  the other half couldn't.

Months passed.

Crafting Hope In Secret Places
And then, just last week, a totally unexpected series of events led to a brief discussion via private Facebook message. Her communication with me led me to wonder if her heart might be more open toward me than before.  So I decided to nudge what seemed like, maybe, it was an open door.

Heart trembling, I said "yes" to hope.

I asked if we could talk on the phone.  She said she was nervous.  "But yes, let's do it."

I was nervous too.  No doubt.

And then?  Miracles.  Straight up, blow-your-socks-off miracles.

Our kids' nap time the next day found us talking, crying, laughing, crying some more.  For just under 2 hours.  Hurts explained, apologies offered, forgiveness extended.  We shared many of the "I miss you but can't call you" moments of heartache from the last number of months, ached with each other over them.  

Heart doors were flung wide open, sighs of relief heaved over and over again.

And oh, the God stories.  Stories of hearts supernaturally changed and freed by Him.  Perspectives tweaked.  Sudden, miraculous ability to find common ground that had been buried deep, impossible to dig out only months before.

I have my friend back.  Sister of my heart.  My "Jonathon and David" best bud.

"Shishters."  With Alissa at my wedding in 2007.  She was my matron of honor.
(This post was written and published with her permission.)

These last few mornings, I've almost had to pinch myself upon waking, as the reality of our restored friendship crashes in on my heart all over again.  It's real.  It really happened.  Oh Father, thank You.

Thank You that Your ways are not my own, Your thoughts are higher than mine, Your plans are greater, and Your love is stronger.  

Thank you that You're a God of restoration, that, to You, friendships centered around Jesus, forged by years and tears and deeply invested hearts, are SO not trivial, not flippantly cast aside.

Thank You that You have the power to move mountains - and human hearts - and that You're fiercely committed to doing so.  

Thank you that even when we lose hope, You never do. 

That our hope lost is Your opportunity to break in, surprising us with Your beauty and bringing glory to Yourself.

Surprising us with His beauty.  Isn't that what God does in situations like this?  He makes a way where there seems to be no way.  He crafts hope deep in the hidden, secret places, beneath the surface, His hand invisible to our natural eye.

All the while, we wonder if He cares about this detail, that loss, that relationship.

And then, in His perfect time, He who is HOPE?  He BURSTS forth, back into our view, in all His glory. and the perfect, intricate splendor of His master plan is unveiled in all its beauty.

I'm left speechless.  Undone by His tender care for my life, my heart.  For her life, her heart.  And His value for our friendship.  Heart overflowing with gratitude, and cell phone in hand, ready to call my best friend "just because."   Because now, I can.

After those 2 hours on the phone the other day, I updated my Facebook status: "My heart is so full."

And her immediate "mine too!" under my status was the sweetest picture of God's unexpected, extravagant goodness.  His perfect, beautiful-even-when-unseen crafting of hope in the hidden places of our hearts and lives.

Friend, when hope seems to die, may you have courage to believe that He is faithful.  Courage to trust that He is still working, shaping, building, planning, creating.  He never quits.  In the dark days, when you can't see His hand, may you rest deeply in the truth that Hope will burst forth in His perfect time.  May you find peace in anticipating the unveiling of His secret work that will be so extravagantly, surprisingly perfect for you.  Beyond your wildest dreams.

Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly beyond all that we ask or think, according to the power that works within us, to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations forever and ever.  Amen.  

(Ephesians 3:20-21)

Brief note from Dana:

Hi Friend,

If you've found encouragement here at Moments and Invitations, I want to invite you to subscribe to my soon-coming e-newsletter.  This will be a private, email communication in which I'll share a little more intimately than I can on the blog (including updates on the writing of my book and glimpses into my personal/family life), as it will go out to a smaller group of readers.  Subscribing will allow us to stay connected at a more personal level.  Interested?  Click here to read more.

P.S. Reading via email or a reader?  Want to click over to the blog to comment or explore further?  Click here. 

Also -To encourage you if you're walking through a season of torn relationships,
written during the falling-to-pieces of this precious friendship: God's Invitation in the Midst of the Storm

Previous post:
Why I Do What I Do: My World View

PS - Stopping back by today to link up with Chasing Blue Skies!

So I Had A Miscarriage... And Our Adoptive Family Profile Is Being Presented Today.

(So I have another piece, kind of a "part 2" to the last piece I wrote re. Lizard Skillz.  I was going to post it today.  But... I'm feeling the need to wait on that one and bring you this today instead.  Hang with me friends?)

Image Credit

10 days ago, I had a miscarriage.

I didn't write about it.  I kept quiet not because I felt the need to keep our loss a secret, but because I honestly just didn't know what to say about it.  I felt numb.  

I wondered where my emotions were.  Had they died?  Had my ability to grieve been permanently seared by the number of losses I've experienced?

1 baby, 2 babies, now 3 babies... Not to mention our former foster daughters - both of them.  

That's kind of a lot of loss crammed into 5-going-on-6 years.  A lot of nightmares.  A lot of heart-wrenching, agony-filled cries to the Lord.

A lot of unanswered "WHY?"s.

And this time, this last loss, I just didn't quite know how to process.  If you talked with me during that week that I miscarried, I probably sounded weirdly okay.  Or rather, simply out of touch.  I was genuinely okay on one level... I wasn't putting up an "okay" front.  Under the surface though, I knew I needed to feel more. 

But since I couldn't at the time, I let it go, handed my heart and my emotions and my grief process over to the Lord, trusting Him with the process and the timing.  I put one foot in front of the other and kept walking.

Fast forward to today.  I sat down to write a blog post about something completely different.  Something that will now have to wait for another time.  Because when I glanced at my email, I had a link to Ann Voskamp's blog in my inbox... and since I can rarely resist her writing, I hopped on over to her place.  

This was her post for today.

And that Laura Story song?  It used to make me mad.  For real.  That doesn't happen to me often.  I used to turn off K-Love whenever it would come on.  I could write a whole 'nother post about the reasons for my heart response to her song.  Suffice it to say, it was wrong.  I was wrong.

So I watched that video today.  Watched Laura sing it.  I glued my little bottom to the couch and I set my heart before the Lord and I listened.  I'd heard the story before, of her husband's brain cancer.  At least pieces of it.  

But with a reminder of that story combined with my current life circumstances as the backdrop... this song wrecked my heart today.  In a very good way.  It was a "wrecking" that needed to happen.

And... the second after I clicked "play" on the video of this song, I glanced at the time: 1:02 pm.  And I realized... our profile is being shown right. now.  As we speak.  A birth mom will, in the next hour or two, be making a decision between our family and a few others as possible adoptive families for her baby girl.

Deciding that the timing of this was not coincidental, I leaned into the Lord.  And I mean, I leaned hard.  Trusting, trusting, trusting....surrendering more deeply.

When friends betray us

When darkness seems to win

We know that pain reminds this heart

That this is not, this is not our home

It's not our home

'Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops

What if Your healing comes through tears

And what if a thousand sleepless nights

Are what it takes to know You're near

What if my greatest disappointments

Or the achings of this life

Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can't satisfy

And what if trials of this life

The rain, the storms, the hardest nights

Are Your mercies in disguise

(Laura Story - Blessings. This only the last half of the song.)

If my "greatest disappointments and the achings of this life" come in the form of loss, in the form of my family not looking the way I've dreamed it would, and possibly in the form of our family not being chosen for a baby yet again.... can I press in and trust Him?  Trust His heart toward me?  Trust that the trials of this life are His mercies in disguise?

I wept.  Sitting here on my couch, the tears finally came.  Over this miscarriage...and over all of it.  The babies that are now in Heaven... over "our" sweet girls who are no longer ours... the long wait for this adoption.

And it dawned on my heart all over again: "the rain, the storms, the hardest nights" - these are mercies in disguise because in it all, He invites us to know Him.  In it all, He is working for our good (Rom. 8:28)... and our greatest good is nothing but to know His heart and surrender to His love.

Someone once said that it's only here on Earth that we'll have these opportunities, these invitations, to know the Lord in the midst of suffering.  In Heaven, for eternity, we will know Him in joy and radiance and splendor and beauty and the absence of pain.  

But it's only here and now, only for this blink-of-an-eye life, that He gives us these opportunities, these invitations to encounter Him intimately in the midst of our pain.  Our grief.  Our losses.

I want to know Christ, sharing with Him in the fellowship of His suffering.

When I get to Heaven, I want to know Him like that.  

This is my chance to cultivate that kind of intimacy with Him.  Right now.  I want to respond to Him well while I can... while I'm here.  

Oh God....Your heart toward me is good - I believe it.  I do.  

Let me know You intimately here, now... in the midst of these mercies in disguise.

~~~

~~~ 

PS.  Though I rarely intentionally invite comments these days, please know that your hearts and thoughts are always so very welcome here, friends.  And that YOU are always welcome here, comments or not.

PPS. I have just (tonight, Tuesday, 3/26) enabled Disqus on this site.  It'll upgrade the level of community happening around here by letting you know when I, or someone else, responds to a comment that you leave.  That said... it is taking a bit to sync with my blog... so to those of you who've left a comment here, please be assured - it'll come back!  All comments should reappear by tomorrow.  Along with my replies. :)  In the meantime - y'all are welcome to leave comments.  They should show up just fine.  Thanks, everyone. Really.  Y'all are so loved.

Part 2: The Wreck and the Aftermath

Today I went over to the dealership where we left my minivan with its possibly-going-flat front left tire.  I photographed the damage... $4,350 worth, as I mentioned in Part 1 of this story.

Front driver's side wheel - where we got shoved into the curb.

...and took a few pics at the scene of the accident:

Leftover debris on the side of the road - this was from the front of the car that hit us.

The curb on the wrong side of the road we had been turning onto
with marks from our impact.

Where we were when we got hit - just about to turn right here.  Those are the trees where we would have ended up if I hadn't found the stinkin' brake pedal.... We ended up over there next to them facing the wrong way on the left side of that road.  For anyone familiar with Greensboro, this is at Eagle Road and (almost) Bridford Parkway... over off of West Wendover.

One final pic: this is the dealership where I had been headed to get an oil change... in the parking lot of which sits my crippled minivan, awaiting the insurance adjuster.  This is a Hendrick dealership - there are hundreds of them around the country.  The fact that we bought our minivan from  a Hendrick-owned Nissan dealership in Kansas City last year meant a rolled-out red carpet for us at this Hendrick-owned Chevy dealership here in Greensboro.  Super thankful - these guys are great and incredibly helpful.
(Note the Carolina Blue sky... Nowhere like here.)
~~~

Today we have felt okay.  Isaac is acting normal - pretty sure he's fine.  We had a BLAST at the Greensboro children's museum today and I might not be able to resist posting pictures from our visit there at some point in the near future.

Jerusha and I have been a bit sore today.  Interesting fact: We hadn't been certain, though Jerusha was fairly sure she remembered correctly, that we had in fact turned and looked at each other briefly in shock when the initial impact occurred.  Today, the left side of my neck is sore (I would have turned to my right to look at her) and the right side of her neck is sore (she would have obviously turned her head left to look at me).  We laughed today about the location of our muscle soreness being proof of the fact that we did indeed make some kind of momentary stunned, terrified eye contact with each other before it occurred to me to put my foot on the brake. :)

A cool thing that happened that I don't want to forget:

When my dad and I finally got home from leaving my van at the dealership after the accident, it was time for Isaac to go down for his nap.  I changed his diaper and got him all snuggled up under his blankets... and then lay down next to him.  I wanted to give him a chance to process what had happened.  

Our conversation went something like this:

Mommy: "Isaac, remember when we were driving in our car and then BANG, that car crashed into our car?  And then we stopped really fast and you were crying?  That was scary, huh?"

Isaac: "Bang!  Crash!  Our car was breaking!  Really broken!"  He whimpered and snuggled closer to me.

Mommy: "I know buddy, that was scary... That car crashed into our car and our car IS broken... but Jesus kept us safe, Isaac!  Jesus kept Isaac safe, and Mommy safe, and Jerusha safe!  And the mechanics will fix our car so it will be all better."  (He's been learning about mechanics lately - he's fascinated by them.)

Isaac: "Crash!  Jesus kept safe!  Mechanics!  Tow trucks!"  No longer whimpering.

Mommy: "Yep, we're all safe, bud.  Isaac and Mommy and Jerusha - Jesus kept us all safe!  We can pray and tell Him thank you.... Thank you Jesus for keeping us safe!"

Isaac: "Isaac safe.  Thank You Jesus keeping us safe!"

I finished tucking him in and he rolled over...fell asleep in complete peace.  I loved it.  I loved that he got to process the emotions around the wreck with me.  I had been concerned for him because he'd been "whisked away" to go back to Gigi and Grandpa's house so quickly after it had happened and I hadn't had the opportunity to help him process.... but then I was so thankful that a couple of hours later he was able to talk with me about it, to remember it and feel it with his emotions and then to realize that Jesus took care of us and thank Him for that.  

What an incredible gift and responsibility God has given us as parents, eh?  This charge to shepherd and steward and guard our kiddos' hearts before Him?  There is nothing more challenging... or more fulfilling or exhilarating. 

To all of you who've prayed for us in the wake of the crash, thank you.  I've had a few moments of fear as I've been riding and/or driving in the last 24 hours, as this was by far the most intense wreck I've ever experienced.... but Jesus is faithful and His grace is more than enough.  Still, it's kind of hard not to be sitting at a stop sign or traffic light and be bracing myself to be hit again.  Interesting.  I didn't expect to experience this.  I'm sure it'll pass.

In the meantime... I'm meeting tomorrow morning with the insurance adjuster who will be checking out the damage to my car.  Praying that AllState quickly accepts liability for the accident and QUICKLY releases me to begin having repairs done...so that we can MAYBE get back to KC by the end of this week.  (The original plan was to leave NC this coming Thursday morning.  That is looking unlikely.)

We'll see.   All's well.  We're just thankful over here.

:)

Part 1: How Getting A North Carolina Oil Change Turned... Well... Interesting.

Isaac passionately loves to crash his cars, trucks, airplanes, helicopters... whatever... into each other.  Or into walls or tables or floors or any other hard surface you can imagine.

This morning (Monday, 3/18) he experienced his first real crash.

Let me say it now: we are all okay.

Isaac and I, along with our housemate Jerusha, are in North Carolina visiting my family.  Stan wasn't able to come because of his work schedule (sad!!) so Jerusha agreed to take some time off of work and wrangle this 17-and-a-half hour road trip with Isaac and me.  Yup, that's us.  The road trip wranglers.  We drove from Kansas City straight through to NC.  No, we won't be driving it straight on the way back.  Just for the record.  HOLY COW it was long.

The (grubby) Road Trip Wranglers: Cheesin' it up outside 
Cracker Barrel in Frankfort, KY.

So somewhere in the middle of Kentucky or West Virginia, my "oil change" light came on. Yes, I feel kinda dumb for not getting an oil change before we left town... but we decided to press on through and get the oil changed here in Greensboro.  So... this morning I was finally on my way to do that.  Isaac and Jerusha were in the car with me.

It was overcast and sprinkling outside.  We drove not even 5 minutes up the road from my parents' house and prepared to turn right to go toward the parking lot of the dealership... and....

SLAM!!!!!!!!!!!

The crash was deafening.  We were hit from behind and everything that happened next occurred in slow motion. 

I gasped, stunned.  I remember Jerusha crying out in shock. Jerusha says she remembers us looking wide-eyed at each other for a split second as our car careened forward, out of control.  Both of our heads snapped forward and a quick moment of severe pain shot through them, then subsided completely.  

My right foot moved in slow motion, searching.  I have to find the brake pedal or we'll end up in those trees... Have to stop the car...........

Finally found it and pressed down as hard and fast as I ever have.  We came to a quick stop, slamming hard into the curb on the wrong side of the road we'd been in the process of turning onto.  I remember being so thankful we hadn't jumped the curb and ended up in the trees.

The entire event happened within probably 3 seconds.  They were the longest 3 seconds of my life.

"Thank you Jesus that we're okay."  I think I said it out loud.

Isaac was screaming, crying, shocked and terrified.

I stumbled out of the car, opened his door, unbuckled him from his car seat with shaky hands.  Never have I been more profoundly thankful for a car seat.  Ever.

I pulled him out of the car and held and comforted him and he began to calm down.

I hope his little spine is okay....

The guy who hit me came over, asked if we were alright, told us he'd tried to stop but lost traction on the wet road.  I asked Jerusha to call 911 and let them know we needed a cop.  I called my parents, who arrived within 5 minutes.  We loaded Isaac's car seat into their car, and they took Isaac and Jerusha back to their house while I waited on the officer to fill out his crash report.

Nearly two hours later, my dad (who'd dropped the others off at home and then come back to meet me) and I arrived back at my parents' place.  Minus my un-driveable 2012 minivan. :( It's a little sad - I'm not gonna lie.  

Got an estimate from the body shop at the dealership where I had been planning to get an oil change:  $4,350 worth of damage.  

Entire rear body/underneath needs replaced.  Front driver's side tire/wheel/rim/possible suspension/steering damage... from slamming into the curb.

I am so thankful it wasn't my fault.  And that the other guy's insurance policy is legit so we won't have to pay a penny.  And again, that we're all okay.  

Years ago I lost traction on wet roads and rear-ended someone - so I felt bad for him.  And he was apologetic.  A good guy.  Just a bummer.

Definitely wondering if we'll wake up with sore necks/backs tomorrow from the insane whiplash moment we experienced.  Really praying Isaac's okay.  He seems to be - he's his normal wild, fun, dancing self. :)

We have to wait until Wednesday morning for the other guy's insurance adjuster to come out and do their whole estimate thing....for AllState to accept liability for the accident and approve getting the damage fixed.  7 days worth of repairs need to be made on my car, according to the guy at the body shop.  IF we end up needing to get all the work done in North Carolina, that puts us arriving back home in KC probably a full WEEK later than we'd planned.  Eesh.  And that wouldn't be such a big deal except for the fact that my little guy is SERIOUSLY missing his daddy. :(  As am I!  

There's a chance we'll be able to only get my front left tire/wheel situation fixed here and then drive it back to KC and have the rest of the work done there.  Hoping and praying that that works out.

All of that said, I don't know that I have anything super profound to say tonight, except just that, despite all the inconvenience and hassle of this whole ordeal, I see the hand of God woven through all of it.  He's good and faithful, and He protects and provides and gives grace for every moment, every circumstance.

Stay tuned for Part 2 of the story within the next couple of days.

:)