When the Brook Dried Up

The water was gone. Not just gone...bare, bones dry. In fact, if he knelt down, he could touch the cracks in the old brook bed. Why? He had obeyed...he had been faithful. In fact, he had not hesitated. The Lord had said, "Go hide" and he had gone...no questions asked. So, he had done the right thing. Why was the water gone? Then, the Lord came again. Only these instructions made less sense than the first, and still he obeyed. God said, "Go to Zarephath." And what awaited him there? Just a widow and her son...who were worse off than he was, if that was possible. But, again, he did not fuss or fume or even question. The record shows he simply walked the long road to Zarephath and found the widow. If he felt down and out, this woman was in a worse position...preparing literally her last meal. Imagine that image that he stumbled upon. Doubtless this woman had cried tears until there were no tears left...but the raw emotion was still there in the absense of the tears. Her son (as far as I can tell her only living relative?) was getting ready to eat his final meal and then begin the horrible process of slowly starving and thirsting to death. "Oh Lord, this will not be easy," the dusty prophet must have thought to himself. Nevertheless, he approached the woman with the authority that only comes from ABOVE and requested some water. A steep request in a severe drought such as this...but she began to walk away. Then, he called after her..."Oh yes, and a little bit of food if you have it." That's when the mama bear in her came out. "As your God lives," she cried in outrage..."I only have a little bit of flour and oil left to my name." And here comes the awesome power of God once again. The prophet tells her to make it anyways and bring it to him. "God will not let those provisions run out," he explains and she believes him and she does it. Faith and trust are under construction at the brooks and widows houses of our own lives. We may not like it...we may not understand it...but neither (probably) did this prophet at the time that it was happening to him. Talk about trust. This man trusted God in his most basic human need...food and water. And God brought it to him. Now, the Bible does not go into major detail but I imagine he must have been at the brook for a while because it would have taken at least a couple days for the brook to dry up. I KNOW in my heart of hearts that there must have been at least a moment or two where Elijah said to himself, "Did I mishear what the Lord asked of me?" "Am I doing something wrong?" "Why had HE not given me my next directive?" And then, when God does tell this prophet to move on...where does he end up? In a worse (humanly speaking) situation than before in some ways. Now, he finds himself dependent on a widow, who in Bible times had a rough time just providing for herself. I know if I had been him I might have just died of fear just thinking of asking this lady for the food that was in short supply. But, you know what I am holding out for? The ending. You see, if you keep reading the account, the climax of this story is coming out...God is about to use this ONE guy to bring ultimate glory to HIMSELF!!! The people of Israel had pretty much thrown the One TRUE God out the window and had been worshiping Baal (who was a pretty nasty dude to worship, come to find out). God was gonna use this dusty, thirsty brook-dwelling, raven-fed prophet to show a whole mountain side full of people the POWER and AWESOME wonder of God. Right now, I am sitting at the dried up brook and I am asking, "Why?" "I thought I was doing what you told me?" "I thought this was the road I was supposed to take"....and it very well might have been. I am walking from dried up brook to a widow's house and thinking..."How did this happen?" I know when the doctor first told me that Hannah had died, I thought, "Here we go again, hopes dashes, dreams crushed...how am I gonna do this?" But I do not know the final chapter...I do not see, YET, how God will be glorified, but I am going to trust that He will be. Just like the prophet sitting at his brook...I did not know what the next chapter will be. But, I can tell you one thing...if I even get to have 1/100th of an ending like Elijah the prophet....then my brook experience will be worth it all.

He is a Daddy

Ryan knew it first. I did not really want to take the test. Ryan insisted and he waited the needed three minutes for me to come out and give the result...but as I think back on it...he already knew somehow. I sure didn't. Before we knew that Hannah was a girl...I wanted to name her Isaac because it means "laughter" and that is exactly what I did that December day when I took that test. But somehow...Ryan knew. On this Father's day...the first Father's Day that Ryan would have celebrated as a Father was hard for him. I knew it would be. But he was tough. He braved church and everything. He is the epitome of what it means to be a man. If I could say one thing about him as a Father it would be this...he was ready and more than willing. He was the cutest father-to-be. He bought a book a few weeks after we knew Hannah was a girl about how to raise girls. He spent hours picking the perfect bedding for her to sleep on. He was going to be the best father any little girl ever had. On this Father's day, I begin my prayers for a daughter for Ryan. I do not care how God provides her...but I am going to pray for her. Whether she is born to us or she is brought to us...I am going to pray for her each day, trusting and believing that God's plan for our family is best. But to all who may read, I ask you to remember, that my sweet Ryan is a daddy...a very, extra, wonderful special Daddy in a class that few are called to be in. I love that man and cannot wait to see how God provides a family for us to raise and love!!

An even BIGGER four years ago

There are many things about June 6, 2008 that do not really impact me. For example, my mother did not tell me (thankfully) that there were several moments of crisis with my wedding cake on that big day (apparently one of the tiers was crooked but I never noticed). I was not as phased by the heat as my poor relatives were as they scurried around setting up chairs and decorating my "garden". I never really got to taste my food at all and only tasted my cake when we took the "feeding each other cake" photo. But there is one thing I will never forget. I heard "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring" and grabbed my Dad's arm. I inhaled deeply to keep the tears back. The day was here!!! I was getting married !!! The crowd stood up and I smiled...this was it. Then, I saw him. There he was. He was waiting for me at the end of that garden path...and he was happy to see me. Not just happy...his face was beaming and I KNEW at that moment: HE LOVED ME. He wanted me and only me. He wanted me to be his wife...forever. With all my quirks, with all my problems and issues...he wanted ME. I do not know if I will ever experience a feeling like that ever again. For that moment, in that space and time, the world was perfect and everything was right. That moment in time is etched in my memory. In the past few months (well, a full year now) I have revisited that moment countless times. Those two "babies" who got married that sweltering June day...They had NO idea what was ahead of them. They had no idea how many nights they would have to lean on each other for strength when their own strength was gone. They had no idea how many times the Lord would come through for them in the 11th hour and stengthen their faith once again. They had no idea how much fun they would have just spending time with each other...not spending even a dime to do it. They had no idea they would ever get to be homeownners (or dog owners for that matter). They had no idea the days of sunshine they would have or the storms they would have to walk through. They had no idea they would stand at the grave of their firstborn daughter...with her never having lived for even a minute outside of her mother's womb. They had no idea....no idea. And yet, we were ready, should those things come (and they did). We stood in that garden, in front of God, in front of our pastor, in front of everyone we knew and loved and PROMISED ourselves and them that we were in this for the long haul. We were there for each other...for better and for worse, in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer. As these four years have gone by, we have had our share of "the worse, the sickness and the poorer." At the same time, God had a purpose in it. For one thing, we are bonded in ways few couples can understand. We know about sorrow...and those sorrows have made us stronger together. We know that if no one else on planet earth understands how we feel about something...we know that our "other half" knows why those tears pop up unannounced. We also know why we smile that silly smile even if no one else does. We know that one of us does not eat raw tomatoes and that the other hates corned beef. We know that one of us has more blue shirts in his closet than anyone else we know and that the other will wear any dress as long as it was picked out by the her sweet hubby. We know the likes, the dislikes, the fears and the hopes. And, what is even better is that we are willing to work on those fears and hang-ups without quitting on each other. Only our Heavenly Father knows what might come in the next 60 plus years...but whatever those things may be...I know we will make it through. We promised it to each other. We made that promise that hot June day four years ago and it is a vow we mean to stick to. After all, we promised "for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer...in sickness and in health."

Four years ago

I set my bright, new "professional" bag on my new desk. My stomach was alive with a million butterflies clammoring for my every thought. "Hmmm, should I rethink how I organized the desks in here?" "Is that really where I want those posters?" No time now to change it anyway. There would be students in my room any moment. Would they like me? After all, I was only 4 or 5 years older than some of my students. Would they respect me? Would this be the worst thing I had ever done? I had met a few of them at the open house a few days before. Most seemed less than impressed. Afterall, I was replacing a much beloved woman who had invested a lot of her personal time into helping these kids out. Here I was, still wet behind the ears from my internship...in their eyes, what did I know? I shook my head to clear my thoughts. Only ten minutes and that homeroom class would come pouring in. I was not expecting to have a homeroom when I started at school. I just thought I would teach my classes and go home. But, that was not what God had planned. The bell chimed and in walked a pack of freshmen...the class of 2012. These would be the lives I would be expected to get from freshmen to seniors. How was I to do that? Would they seek me out for help? Would they trust me? I took attendence and decided I would have to worry about that later. Four years later I sat in a pew at the graduation of my "babies." How had four years gone by so fast? How had this group of little freshmen suddenly become men and women ready to go out into the world? Together we had conquered so many things. We had fundraised, we had planned events, we had gone on the senior trip. My "babies" had come to me to talk through college application processes, friends moving away, what outfit to wear to homecoming, recommendation letters, and everything in between. With each name called and each diploma passed out, I could recall happy memories and sweet times. What a blessing that God had allowed me...plain old me...to be IN their lives. What an honor...and what a responsibility. As I looked at each face I thought to myself, "I got to have a part in that kids life!" I never expected when I walked into that classroom four years ago that I would be sad to see my kids go. With each speech that night, I laughed and cried. I felt a little silly at first when I packed tissues before I left for graduation...I thought to myself, "I will not need these." I was wrong. I will never forget that class. They blessed me and taught me things that will forget leave a mark on me. I wish them all the best and pray their lives honor God in every way.