The Word Weaver - ~discovering threads of joy, beauty, and faith in life's tapestry http://thewordweaver.com Mon, 24 Dec 2012 11:17:30 +0000 Mon, 24 Dec 2012 11:17:30 +0000 hourly 1 3600 SnapPages.com We Are Not Alone, Even in the Dark The Word Weaver, Deb The Word Weaver, Deb  I struggle to stuff the broken pieces of my heart into words.  [...]]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/12/24/we-are-not-alone-even-in-the-dark Mon, 24 Dec 2012 11:17:30 +0000 http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/12/24/we-are-not-alone-even-in-the-dark


I've found it increasingly difficult to sit down and write.  Our country has become deeply acquainted with grief once more.  Our hearts break over the horror of the shootings, the trauma of Hurricane Sandy, and the desperation of hurting friends.  I struggle to stuff the broken pieces of my heart into words.  Perhaps you do, as well.
 
In a world of unrest, uncertainty, pain, and even evil, we can look to the Source of our help and our security.  There is strength found in the Babe in the manger who arose as Savior and King Eternal. 
          In Jesus, we find:
                   The Light who shines in blackest times
                             The Comfort who cradles our piercing grief
                                      The Hope who slices through paralyzing fear
                                                The Peace who carries our heaviest burdens
          He is Immanuel, God with us. 
 
Though we hurt, though we have questions, though we cannot understand, we are not alone.  He is here.  He is with us.  He loves us.  He is in ultimate control.  Though it is dark and I cannot see, I’m choosing to hold His hand and trust Him.  It helps.  



##
Copyright 2012 The Word Weaver, Deb Weaver

]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/12/24/we-are-not-alone-even-in-the-dark#comments 10 "Autumn Aglow" The Word Weaver, Deb The Word Weaver, Deb http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/11/05/autumn-aglow Mon, 05 Nov 2012 18:27:44 +0000 http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/11/05/autumn-aglow
Photo Credit:  2012, April Ragsdale, South Carolina, Used with permission.







Limbs set afire,
Cascading sparks of color
Scattered in the wind.

Out of death's ashes,
Breathtaking beauty
Ignited before us.

Holy mystery ablaze,
Illuminating divine glory
Displayed on earth.


##
Copyright 2012, The Word Weaver, Deb Weaver




]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/11/05/autumn-aglow#comments 10 Compelled by Summer's Embrace The Word Weaver, Deb The Word Weaver, Deb
[...]]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/08/10/compelled-by-summers-embrace Fri, 10 Aug 2012 17:05:00 +0000 http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/08/10/compelled-by-summers-embrace






Murmuring feeble protests,
A rosy sky is put to bed;
The symphony of crickets play in time,
Life stills, strains to listen.

Igniting joyous wonder,
Flying lanterns click on, then off;
Eyes drawn to the Creator, True Beauty,
Life stills, strains to honor.


##
Copyright 2012, The Word Weaver, Deb Weaver




Photo credit:  Ted Goldring, "Fireflies #2", Creative Commons


]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/08/10/compelled-by-summers-embrace#comments 0 "Summer Social" The Word Weaver, Deb The Word Weaver, Deb Photo Credit:  Dennis Wong, "Daisies", (Creative Commons) [...]]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/06/26/summer-social Tue, 26 Jun 2012 22:17:03 +0000 http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/06/26/summer-social
Photo Credit:  Dennis Wong, "Daisies", (Creative Commons)




Cheerful, sunlit daisies chatter in the breeze,
Squealing, giggling, and prattling in turn;
Bees hum between clusters of these loquacious flowers,
Shamelessly eavesdropping;
Apple-green blades of grass sway and twist,
Dancing and twirling amongst friends;
Happiness ripples through the field.

##
Copyright 2012 The Word Weaver, Deb Weaver




Photo credit:  rkramer62 (Creative Commons)




Linking with seedlingsinstone.blogspot.com.  Please check out this fine blog and the other linked authors.  

]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/06/26/summer-social#comments 8 Psycho Wonder Weaver Sets Me Up! The Word Weaver, Deb The Word Weaver, Deb http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/06/14/psycho-wonder-weaver-sets-me-up Thu, 14 Jun 2012 21:23:49 +0000 http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/06/14/psycho-wonder-weaver-sets-me-up


She pronounces statements like these:

    "Oh, no problem.  That won't take long to do."

Did I mention that she's a pathological liar?  It always, ALWAYS takes d-a-y-s longer than she anticipates.

    "Sure, I'll do that.  What else can I help you with?"

Could someone get this overachiever to shut up?!?  Please.

    "I'll take care of the treetops.  But...you know, if we only paint them, they'll look flat.  I've got an idea to make them look more 3-dimensional.  I could hot glue individual leaves onto the board."

You've caught onto the fact that she's completely psycho, right?  Hot glue individual leaves? Certifiably crazy!

Psycho Wonder Weaver is optimistic, enthusiastic, and creative.  I hate her. And I've got the hot glue burns to prove it.  

She's also a master magician.  You see, she does this incredible disappearing act when it's time to do the actual work.  

Gone.  Missing-in-action.  Vanished.

Don't ask me where she goes.  She's probably taking a nap.  And yes, I'm jealous.

You see, left in her wake is me.  Little ol' me. Plain ol' me.  Getting-older-every-minute me.  The one with the deer-in-the-headlights-on-Highway-I-85 look.  The one who's overwhelmed, exhausted, and close to tears.  The one who posts on Facebook:  "You know that moment when the sinking feeling you've had all afternoon finally sinks in?  Yeah this is that moment.  Brought to you by 'Bit Off More Than I Can Chew' and 'It's Going to Be a Long Night.' "

A sweet friend, September, cautioned me.  She said, "People will understand and will still love you if you say you can't help sometimes."  It's wise advice to a people-pleaser like me.  I need the perspective of good friends to watch out for me and to help me set boundaries.

It's important to periodically evaluate life's offerings.  To make sure that my motives are pure.  That the timing is right for this period.  That I'm still called to a particular activity.

Some things are only for a season--to prolong them (just because I've always done them or because I want to make someone else happy) is ineffective and draining.  I've dropped certain activities over the years.  I no longer write a weekly newspaper column, teach AWANA, teach a Sunday School class, or sit in the nursery.  Though they're important tasks, there's only so much time and energy.  



My passions lie in studying God's Word and praying, in writing, in weekly leading a small group of gals (pictured above), and in volunteering in children's activities like Christian Youth Theater (CYT, pictured below) or Vacation Bible School (VBS).

Even when the projects are whittled down to those I'm most passionate about, I bite off waaaayy more than I can chew.  And in the middle of the project, often in the middle of the night, I curse that demented woman!   

But having spent the past couple of weeks with other undercover superheroes, I remember that I am not alone. I was surrounded by incredible men, women, and children who banded together for a common purpose.  They gave of themselves and did things that were far beyond their own abilities to accomplish.  Amazing things happened.  



Photo Credit:  CYT Upstate, June 2012.  Terrific, talented cast.  Passionate parent volunteers who designed and made costuming and sets.  Wonderful group of people who directed/managed the show and program.  All superheroes!



So I've started to thank God for that overachieving alter-ego of mine.  By immersing me in projects that completely swamp and consume me, she's really doing me a favor.  Though Psycho Wonder Weaver may get me into messes, Jesus has always~and will always~see me through them.

When what I'm doing is beyond me--far past my ability to accomplish--that's when I depend most upon the Lord.  And when I rely upon Him, I can't take the credit.  It's He who strengthens me.  It's He who empowers me.  When I live in Him, through Him, and for Him, the credit and the glory go to God.  




So Psycho Wonder Weaver is welcome back anytime.  I just hope she waits till I'm a little more rested.

##
Copyright 2012 The Word Weaver, Deb Weaver


]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/06/14/psycho-wonder-weaver-sets-me-up#comments 6 "Sunrise Gift" The Word Weaver, Deb The Word Weaver, Deb Creation's beauty speaks to me.  Sometimes it shouts.  Other times it whispers to my soul.  Always it conveys the love, grace, and majesty of my Heavenly Father. It's one of my favorite things, and it graces my life with joy.  

Speaking of favorites, I'm linking to the Finding Joy blog for  http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/05/25/sunrise-gift Fri, 25 May 2012 21:52:26 +0000 http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/05/25/sunrise-gift Creation's beauty speaks to me.  Sometimes it shouts.  Other times it whispers to my soul.  Always it conveys the love, grace, and majesty of my Heavenly Father. It's one of my favorite things, and it graces my life with joy.  

Speaking of favorites, I'm linking to the Finding Joy blog for Favorite Things Friday.  

It's the first time I've ever linked to another blog...And yes, I am accepting high fives for the brave little blogger! Thanks! 

Seriously, the whole purpose of linking is to introduce folks to different writers.  If you're looking for unique facets of joy, please consider clicking the above link and reading other perspectives.  

If you're here because you found this post at Finding Joy, Welcome to The Word Weaver!  Please come back and make yourself at home here!

Read on for my moment of joy...






Dawn tiptoed
Caressing the earth
With soft light,
Kissing beauty
With kindly warmth,
Breathing courage
With steady presence,
Awakening life 
With gentle touch.


##
Copyright 2012, The Word Weaver, Deb Weaver


]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/05/25/sunrise-gift#comments 16 "Motherhood Moments" The Word Weaver, Deb The Word Weaver, Deb My precious Mom, Betty Jane Morris Anderson, March 5, 1929 ~ July 28, 2011
  [...]]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/05/15/motherhood-moments Tue, 15 May 2012 15:51:54 +0000 http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/05/15/motherhood-moments
My precious Mom, Betty Jane Morris Anderson, March 5, 1929 ~ July 28, 2011
 


My Mom passed away last July.  You cannot imagine this cavernous loss unless you've experienced it.  I've grieved the deaths of grandparents and in-laws; I even work in the funeral business, and yet losing my mother rocked me deeply.  I'm still learning what 'being motherless' means.  

One thing I've discovered is that there are emotional potholes in unexpected places.  A scent, a sight, a memory ~they all hold power to bring her to mind and cause tears to follow.  Milestones dates are also tricky roadblocks.  There appear to be no detours around them.  

Before my Mom's birthday this year, I'd anticipated it being a tough day for my Dad.  I'd rallied nieces and nephews to call or send a card to their Grandpa.  I was so busy feeling for Dad that I didn't prepare for her birthday to derail me.  That morning in early March, I awoke in melancholy tears that continued all day.  I keenly missed her.  

Yesterday was my first Mother's Day when I could not speak with my Mom.  In the weeks preceding the actual holiday, warnings were everywhere.  

Every commercial (darn those Hallmark moments!)  

Every schmaltzy movie.  

Every unguarded moment.  

Every peek at my calendar.  

Every approaching moment felt like a police blockade complete with lights and sirens frightening me away from May 13, 2012.  

Thankfully, though it was a tender, tearful occasion, the actual day was easier than I anticipated.  



Though the photo is overexposed with sunlight, I adore how luminescent and timeless Mom looks in it.  Taken in Southgate, MI in the early-to-mid-1960's.  



As I wrote a letter to my Mom in a journal Sunday afternoon, I beheld these iridescent memories of her:
 
  • Sitting in her lap as she read stories to my younger brother and me.
  • Playing with her.  She made time for us.  She enjoyed us.  We four, along with our Dad, were her world.  
  • Celebrations made special whether it was homemade Halloween costumes or handmade Barbie clothes (I did have the best-dressed doll in the neighborhood!) or placemats she made for each classroom party as the room mother or the cakes she decorated for our birthdays.
  • Going out to chat over lunch or donuts.  "Quality time" was one of my Mom's love languages, one that I share.
  • The many times she listened, dried my tears, and buoyed my spirits.  She lavished her attention, listening, acceptance, and compassion upon my siblings and me.
  • Leading our Girl Scout and Boy Scout troops.  Being a Mom who welcomed the neighborhood kids (even if it meant tracking up the floor with repeated trips to the bathroom in all seasons!)
  • The example set by her determined spirit. Though paralyzed by a stroke in 1978, she often demonstrated her favorite, oft-repeated phrase, "There's no such thing as 'can't.'  It's spelled 'can try'." 
  • Her delight over her grandchildren.
  • The gift of our final week together.  Early one morning, a nurse peeked into our Comfort Care suite to check on us.  Mom smiled and said, "We're having a girls' night.  We're talking."  My heart holds inexpressible gratitude for the opportunity to sit with her as she traveled her last few miles toward Heaven.




Mom playing with my older sister, Cindy.  Taken around 1959 or 1960.
 


One of the things I'm learning from being motherless is just how important this position is.  Moms matter.  Whether our kids act like they need us or not.  What we do is essential.  Even when our efforts aren't noticed or appreciated.  We are needed.  Even when our kids are nearly grown.  Though our roles change, the calling is eternally paramount.  Our children ~ no matter their ages ~ need us, our acceptance, our love, our time, our encouragement, and our prayers.

So, this first Mother's Day without my Mom, I also treasured my own children in a heightened manner.  We relished time together.  Laughing.  Smiling.  Eating.  Teasing.  Oh, and did I mention soundly beating them both in Upwords?  

(For the sake of transparency, you should understand that when I say "soundly beating" I mean "barely squeaking by.")



The Tilt-a-Whirl with my kids, A.J., 17, and Ali, 22, at the Anderson County Fair, SC, May 2012.
 


This savoring of moments is something I try to do every day, not just on milestone celebrations.  Recent treasures that I'm cradling close:
  • Making my kids erupt in laughter ON PURPOSE. (There's plenty of the other kind too.)
  • My adult daughter's excited chatter through a closed bathroom door (once something that made me feel hounded when the kids were toddlers is now this rare and cherished gift.)
  • Praying God's Word over my children's lives and being reminded that our Heavenly Father is faithful.
  • Being invited to the county fair by my nearly grown kids and hearing one of them say to the other, "The best part about the Tilt-a-Whirl was riding it with Mom and hearing her laugh."
  • Neighborhood walks with my tall, teenage boy when he shares his thoughts, his activities, and his heart with me.
  • The hopeful, delighted looks on their faces as they present the cards chosen especially for me.  My tears as I open and clasp the cardstock gems to my bursting heart.
  • Family dinners where the richest, most decadent and filling course is our laughter and enjoyment of one another.




Time is a rising mist.  Though moments evaporate, the memories remain.  I'd love to hear your special memories.  What are you treasuring in your heart today?

##
Copyright 2012, The Word Weaver, Deb Weaver


]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/05/15/motherhood-moments#comments 10 "Workbench" The Word Weaver, Deb The Word Weaver, Deb I'm a middle kid.  Go ahead.  Say it.  I know you want to.  If you're feeling shy, you could chime in with others and even say it in unison.  Ready?  1, 2, 3... "Aw.  You poor thing."  (Grin.)  Thanks!  I appreciate your sympathy, but actually, I don't mind being one. [...]]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/05/03/workbench Thu, 03 May 2012 16:34:50 +0000 http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/05/03/workbench I'm a middle kid.  Go ahead.  Say it.  I know you want to.  If you're feeling shy, you could chime in with others and even say it in unison.  Ready?  1, 2, 3... "Aw.  You poor thing."  (Grin.)  Thanks!  I appreciate your sympathy, but actually, I don't mind being one.  

I have two older (they would say 'wiser') siblings and a younger (actually, he'd probably say 'wiser' too) one.  Okay, stick with me here...because this birth order business affects who I am, what I do, and what I'm about to write.

Middle kids tend to be more flexible.  We take life as it comes.  We adjust ourselves to others around us because we're used to making do.  It can be a great attribute.

But not always.  Many times we're so yielding and pliable that we accept things as they are rather than envisioning how things could be; therefore, we don't always affect changes around us.  At least that's the case with this middle kid.

Sometimes I just assume that things can't be different.  I hate to admit this, (but then again, we're among friends here), I forget to even pray about changes.  Instead, I expend energy just trying to make things work.  For example, my husband was moved to third shift for what was promised to be only six months.  Six years (and three bosses) later, the schedule and the resulting exhaustion/crankiness was getting old and hammering our family life.  My friend Aimee declared that we needed to pray asking God to change his schedule.  The thought actually surprised me (I know, I know!), and I assured her, "His bosses have refused his requests to change his shift.  We're just going to have to continue to deal with it."  Within a few months of her beginning to pray about it, guess what... Yep, his schedule changed.  All because she dared to ask the right Boss.  

Author and pastor Mark Batterson says in his book, The Circle Maker, "The greatest tragedy in life is the prayers that go unanswered because they go unasked."  (p. 17) Now, I realize that the answers won't always be yes~we're talking about Almighty God whose purposes stretch further and farther than we can imagine, and sometimes "no" is best~but He does want me to ask.  So I'm learning to do so.

This week, I began a double prayer challenge.  Tuesday, I linked hearts with other Moms to begin a twenty-one day effort to pray for our sons.  It's an effort spearheaded by The MOB Society (Mothers of Boys) called #21Days4Sons.  

As we read and respond to Brooke McGlothlin's e-book, Warrior Moms:  Praying the Word for Boys in the Areas They Need it Most, we're praying because we recognize how much we need God to intervene in our lives.  Brooke reminds us that "we serve the God who bends down to listen."  What encouragement that is!  He knows, He cares, and He understands, but He desires for us to share our hearts, our hopes, our hurts, and our requests with Him.  She cautions us to remember that this isn't a quick fix for our families or a crash course in more effective mothering.  She says, "It's not about what you can do.  It's about what God can do IN SPITE of you.  That's what prayer is."  (2012 introductory video)  That is good news! 

Then yesterday, my small group from church started the book/video series,The Circle Maker.  This excellent resource underscores the importance of praying circles around the impossible things in our lives in order to give God the most glory.  Mark Batterson says, "Change the way you pray and everything changes."  He challenged us to spend the next twenty-one days praying and establishing habits of prayer.  

I am intensely lifting up my children during this period of time.  I've been graced with a daughter who is twenty-two and a son who is seventeen.  They're independent thinkers, wildly creative, deeply talented individuals.  They're among my very favorite people.  They make me laugh and they make me cry.  (Occasionally at the same time.)  Though I don't always agree with the choices they make, I love them madly.  I delight in moments spent with them.  I worry over them.  I hurt for them.  I dream with them.  I want what's best for them.  

Since they're nearly grown, it's easy to believe that their characters and habits are pretty much set.  The foundation (a mix of good and bad) that my husband and I have built is pretty well set by now, and that's that.  As I view the looming empty nest period, it's tempting to believe that my influence and role in their lives is extremely limited, if not over.  

In the past several months God has challenged and scraped away these lies.  Though my role has indeed changed, it is still vital.  My kids need me.  They need my prayers.  They need my unconditional love.  They crave my encouragement.  They sometimes even still need my guidance.  I'm learning to speak less, but pray more.  Much more.

And I'm finding that my prayers are just as much for me.  As I've prayed Deuteronomy 13:4 over them this week, "May Ali, A.J., and Estomi (our Compassion son) follow and revere the Lord their God.  May they keep His commands and obey Him, serving Him and holding fast to Him," I'm praying it increasingly over myself.  It's difficult in this fast-paced, oft-times painful life to hold fast to God.  To remember that He's always good.  That He loves me and wants what's best.  To obey His words.  You see, I need this verse (and many others) worked out in my life just as much as they do.

You may rest assured that He's working on middle kids like me!  The Bible promises that He will complete the good work that He has started...in me, in my kids, in you.  Never forget that the Master Carpenter does exquisite work.

The following poem entitled "Workbench" describes some of the processes that Jesus has used while reshaping and rejuvenating my heart. 



Photo credit: Carol and John Bieganek, 2012
 





Rusty dreams
Squeaky fears
Failing efforts
Splintered visions

Darkened thoughts
Neglected tools
Shelving designs
Wasted moments

Hammered hopes
Weathered desires
Sifting callings
Strengthened purposes

Reclaimed moments
Enhanced designs
Sharpening tools
Reframed thoughts

Refurbished visions
Untarnished efforts
Fading fears
Daring dreams

##
Copyright 2012, The Word Weaver, Deb Weaver


]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/05/03/workbench#comments 8 Confession to Community The Word Weaver, Deb The Word Weaver, Deb www.thegypsymama.com ~Yes!  Go visit this delicious delight!  You will not regret it!) for "Five Minute Friday."  

The goal is to write [...]]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/04/27/confession-to-community Fri, 27 Apr 2012 21:11:05 +0000 http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/04/27/confession-to-community www.thegypsymama.com ~Yes!  Go visit this delicious delight!  You will not regret it!) for "Five Minute Friday."  

The goal is to write joyfully, freely, and then to link/post your writing to her site for everyone's mutual enjoyment and encouragement.  I've not been brave enough to try it until today.  

Today, the topic, "community," circulated around my brain, banged up against the side of my head, and reverberated through my body until ink was jarred from my pen onto my paper while I sat at Panera waiting for my son's drama practice to finish.  

In the end, I didn't link my writing on Lisa Jo's blog because I broke all the rules (write only for five minutes, no editing, no backtracking).  

However, because it rang true, I decided to post it on my own blog, among one of my own communities.  



Genuine community is a gift to treasure.  I'm grateful for that which occurs within my family, in my weekly small group, and among my close friends~those online and those in person.  Much of my life happens within the safe embrace of these precious people.  

This soul connection provides a safe haven where we can:
  • be honest and transparent about real life
  • relax into our "realest" selves
  • give and receive support
  • grow and celebrate
It takes time, trust, and intentionality to build the relationships that frame this gift of community.  As we invest in one another's lives, the foundation of community is secured.  Sometimes as we meet heart-to-heart, full details are shared.  Other times, it's enough to know that others are hurting.  Acceptance and grace are offered in both cases.  This kind of bravery, honesty, risk, and love is excruciatingly beautiful.  





Standing before the majestic Pikes Peak with one of my forever friends (and college roommate), Carol Bieganek, November 2011.  

 


Community is more than important; it's essential. I believe in it even when it's hard.  It's especially difficult when I'm in need or at my weakest.  When I have nothing to offer in return. 

You see, I'm used to being the giver ~the listener, the comforter, the hugger, the hand-holder.  The encourager.  It's what I do.  It's who I am.  But there are days I have nothing to give.

Then it's harder to be on the receiving side.  Humbling.  And yet, learning to both give and take is part of living in community with others.  

So I try.  Even when I'm wounded.  Without strength.  Struggling to hope.  When any prayer beyond "Oh, Father!" is more than I can manage.  On a day like today...

Due a combination of things including details that belong to another, I will not fully explain; but because we value one another, let me share this...

Today I could use your prayers, your hugs (virtual and otherwise), and your reminder that everything is going to be okay.

Thank you for listening and for caring.  I feel better just having told you.

##
Copyright 2012, The Word Weaver, Deb Weaver


]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/04/27/confession-to-community#comments 14 "Killing Myself With Kindness" The Word Weaver, Deb The Word Weaver, Deb There's no excuse.  I was rude.

It wasn't the pharmacist's fault that I was running late or that I didn't have my pharmacy card.  It wasn't her fault I'd rushed around that day and failed to spend time with Jesus.

My "SpongeDeb CrankyPants" were showing.  Again.  (Sorry for burning THAT image into [...]]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/04/21/killing-myself-with-kindness Sat, 21 Apr 2012 21:09:55 +0000 http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/04/21/killing-myself-with-kindness There's no excuse.  I was rude.

It wasn't the pharmacist's fault that I was running late or that I didn't have my pharmacy card.  It wasn't her fault I'd rushed around that day and failed to spend time with Jesus.

My "SpongeDeb CrankyPants" were showing.  Again.  (Sorry for burning THAT image into your brain!)  Believe me--I know it's not a pretty sight.  "Jesus-filled Deb" is FAR more gracious, patient, kind, and pleasant than "Plain ol' Deb."  

Everything about me spoke my displeasure:
  • The tense look on my face
  • My piercing gaze beneath my cocked eyebrow (a look I perfected in Mr. Brumback's eighth grade science class)
  • My derisive tone of voice
If my Mom was here she would say, "Deb, it's not what you say that gets you into trouble; it's how you say it."  Again.  I can't count the number of times I've heard that.  Nor the number of times it was true.  Only this time, it was both.

My words--the subtle threat (okay, okay, not so subtle) to take my business elsewhere next time--were far from gracious.  My tone of voice just shoved them all the way home to rude.

My pastor often quotes his mentor, Dr. Craig Loscalzo, PhD., who says, "You never regret extending grace."

But you'll surely regret being ungracious.  At least I do.  Even after I apologized to the poor woman, I felt horrible. 

In fact, I kicked myself.  Thoroughly.  Roughly.

Berated myself.  Soundly.  Completely.

Flipped on a "Mental Demotivational Seminar" (you know--those negative self-talk tapes we so often replay in our head) and turned it up LOUDLY and pressed REPEAT for nearly an hour.

Then I got a grip.  Honestly, did the punishment fit the crime?  Really?  Were my actions wrong?  Yes, of course; but I'd already apologized and felt real remorse.  Not to make light of my act or of His sacrifice, but Someone has already paid for my crimes.  It's unnecessary to crucify myself.

Over a cup of comforting ginger-peach hot tea, I realized that this wasn't the only time this week that I've treated myself like dirt over a small offense. I'm seeing a pattern~I need to learn to love myself more.  I'm often gracious and encouraging to others--even those who are unkind to me.  Why can't I extend that same kindness to myself?  Why am I my own worst enemy?




Photo credit:  Ali Weaver, 2012, Ugh! Yes, that is sugar.  Don't try this at home.


It's time to start killing myself with kindness!  It's going to take some practice and concentrated effort.  Here are some initial intentions:

Press STOP on the destructive mental tape as soon as I recognize it playing in the background.

Remind myself of truth repeatedly--though I sin regularly, forgiveness is readily available.  Though I screw up, I am loveable.  And loved.  Oh, how my Maker lavishes His love upon me!  He delights in mercy and immerses me in His grace.  He treats me far better than I deserve.  That's grace.  And it is amazing!

Listen to what my body needs and fulfill those needs without condemnation--If I'm sleeping terribly (as I often do), I shouldn't label myself as lazy when I take a nap or sleep late.  

Restart my gratitude journal--savor moments of beauty, joy, and blessing.

Walk outside daily. 

Surround myself with beauty, order, and little things that make a difference (candles, music, tea in pretty china cups...and on a related reminder note to myself, it really does help to pick up the house at night.  Waking to a sense of order is worth the effort.

Create "margins" (pockets of space, time) in my schedule, day, week, month, year.  Giving myself extra time imparts grace into my life.

Regularly invest time with forever friends who love, challenge, and support me.  I need them.  They need me.

Celebrate small victories!  Pat myself on the back, even if it's for something that others do easily.

What do YOU do to show kindness and love to yourself?  Please share your ideas in the comment section.  I'd love to add more to my list.

Oh, and if you see me kicking myself unnecessarily, please stop me!  

##
Copyright 2012, The Word Weaver, Deb Weaver


]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/04/21/killing-myself-with-kindness#comments 8 "Exposing My Enemy" The Word Weaver, Deb The Word Weaver, Deb Picture my insidious enemy.  Perhaps you even know her.  Perhaps she harasses you as well.

Her hulking shadow darkens my every move.  Her familiar presence is unwelcome, yet she persists.  Her menacing voice causes me to cower.

If I'm trying something new, she plagues me with convincing doubts.  [...]]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/04/13/exposing-my-enemy Fri, 13 Apr 2012 13:54:10 +0000 http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/04/13/exposing-my-enemy Picture my insidious enemy.  Perhaps you even know her.  Perhaps she harasses you as well.

Her hulking shadow darkens my every move.  Her familiar presence is unwelcome, yet she persists.  Her menacing voice causes me to cower.

If I'm trying something new, she plagues me with convincing doubts.  When I've had prior success in an area, she insinuates a leak in my current abilities.  She chokes the life and vibrancy from my feeble hopes and dreams.

She lurks in the shadows watching for weak moments.  She stalks.  Bullies.  Mocks.  Taunts.  Her name is Fear.

Fear and her ravenous wolf pack of lies and well-timed remarks corner me.  Growling.  Hissing.  Snarling.  "Deb, you're common.  You're boring.  Trust me; you have NOTHING to say.  We both know it.  Don't even try."

I've believed these lies for far too long.  Fear barely has to whisper them anymore since I'm her easy target.  Her tactics are predictable and known.  Her lies feel real.  They're so familiar I often forget that they originate from my enemy.  And believing her "feels" safer than the harder, scarier acts of following my dreams:
  • Choosing to hope
  • Choosing to practice writing
  • Choosing to risk
As much as Fear frightens me, there's odd comfort and safety in this familiar foe.  This is not good.

In the past couple of years, my longing to write has reawakened.  I've realized that if I continue to believe this enemy, then God's plan for my life will be stunted.  Fear must be confronted.  Courage is required.

I've tried chasing Fear from me.  Turned on the light.  Stamped my foot.  Hollered to scare her away.  I've shouted back, "That's not truth!"

Standing up to her has helped, but it is exhausting.  For though she retreats, she always returns.  Fear is persistent if nothing else!

In recent months, I've taken a new tack with her.  Instead of ignoring her (which obviously hasn't worked) and instead of expending enormous amounts of energy chasing her away, I have been merely making acquaintances with her.  Now, I'm not saying we're friends.  We're not, but if she's always going to dog my steps on some level, it's wise to acknowledge her presence and her strategies.

I'm learning to recognize that some (not all) of what she says may be true.  I have no guarantees that my ventures will be successful.  So I'm learning to shrug.  To take her comments in stride.  To admit the possibilities.  To sass back.  "Perhaps I won't have anything to say.  Perhaps I won't say it as well as others do.  Maybe I'll even fail.  But I have to try."




Max Lucado, in his devotional Grace For the Moment, encourages my heart, "At the beginning of every act of faith, there is often a seed of fear." (p. 278)

Am I afraid?  You bet!  I'm stepping forward anyway.  How about you?


##
Copyright 2012 The Word Weaver, Deb Weaver


]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/04/13/exposing-my-enemy#comments 6 Coronation at Dawn The Word Weaver, Deb The Word Weaver, Deb Photo credit:  My friend Carrie LaLonde generously granted permission to use her sunrise shot taken 01/27/2011. [...]]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/04/03/coronation-at-dawn Tue, 03 Apr 2012 12:47:46 +0000 http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/04/03/coronation-at-dawn
Photo credit:  My friend Carrie LaLonde generously granted permission to use her sunrise shot taken 01/27/2011.




Golden rays,
Glistening grasses,
Sunlit blades,
Glittering treasures,
Diamond drops,
Shimmering riches,
Heirloom gems,
Sparkling circlet—
Beauty crowned
In the morning dew.

##
Copyright 2012, The Word Weaver, Deb Weaver




Photo credit:  Carrie LaLonde.  Thank you, Carrie, for your gracious sharing of your incredible art!


]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/04/03/coronation-at-dawn#comments 4 21 Days of Prayer for Sons The Word Weaver, Deb The Word Weaver, Deb Photo of my son enjoying a break from the seriousness of teenagehood, February 2012.
[...]]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/03/22/21-days-of-prayer-for-sons Thu, 22 Mar 2012 16:26:15 +0000 http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/03/22/21-days-of-prayer-for-sons
Photo of my son enjoying a break from the seriousness of teenagehood, February 2012.



"21 Days of Prayer for Sons" is a challenge based on the best-selling Warrior Prayers eBook. According to the MOB (Mothers of Boys) Society, in the last year, over 2000 women from seven different countries have participated in this intense, intentional, and inspirational challenge.

Although it's targeted toward boys, I'll be intensely praying for my boy AND my girl!  At ages 22 and 17, they are fast approaching the age where they'll be gone from my home (never my heart).  I don't want to waste opportunities at  hand, and I have many lessons yet to learn as their Mom.  The best place to start is in prayer.  

I hope you'll join me in this prayer challenge--May 1-21, 2012!  Prayer is the most crucial thing we Moms can do--regardless of our children's ages, stages, or needs.  

If you do not have children, pray specifically for those young ones nearest you.  And you'd never waste a prayer on your friends who are Moms.  It's a vital job, one where one often fails and makes so many errors while learning.  It's so good to have others praying for you!  




Photo taken of my daughter, August 2011, at Lumberman's Monument, Oscoda, Michigan.


]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/03/22/21-days-of-prayer-for-sons#comments 2 "Midnight Magic" The Word Weaver, Deb The Word Weaver, Deb Photo credit belongs to a high school friend of mine, Carrie LaLonde, who now lives in Iowa. [...]]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/03/21/midnight-magic Wed, 21 Mar 2012 17:59:13 +0000 http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/03/21/midnight-magic
Photo credit belongs to a high school friend of mine, Carrie LaLonde, who now lives in Iowa.






"Midnight Magic"

Moon Charm
Captivating eyes
Casting spells
Scattering wishdust
Majestic Enchantment


##
Copyright 2012, The Word Weaver, Deb Weaver






Special thanks to Carrie LaLonde for permission to use her incredible shots here.  Isn't she amazingly talented?!


]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/03/21/midnight-magic#comments 4 "The Superpower I Seek" The Word Weaver, Deb The Word Weaver, Deb http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/03/15/the-superpower-i-seek Thu, 15 Mar 2012 21:55:14 +0000 http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/03/15/the-superpower-i-seek


As a child, I was incredibly shy and quiet.  We moved from Kentucky to Michigan when I was in the middle of my kindergarten year.  Each day I raced home and barely made it to the bathroom.  Finally my Mom figured out the problem.  I was too afraid to ask the new teacher where the bathroom was located.  My second grade teacher warned my parents, "Your daughter will be severely inhibited in life because she's so painfully shy."  In third grade, the teacher confided to my Mom (who was also the room mother), "I often forget she's here."  You get the picture.

Fast forward several years to the crucible called middle school...  (Actually, in my day it was called junior high, but that obviously dates me, so let's keep that little detail to ourselves, okay?)

Invisibility was my daily, desperate superpower wish.  I pictured being able to glide to class and to the bathroom without anyone noticing me.  With such a gift, life would have been perfect.  (But then again, this was adolescence so maybe perfection was an unrealistic hope.  *Grin.)  

Alas, my wish was never granted.  I trudged through the crowded hallways in excruciating self-consciousness.  

Ah, it's just as well.  Such a superpower would have been wasted on me anyway.  Personal comfort should not fuel superpowers.  

Instead of invisibility, I learned to disappear behind masks.  Depending on the setting, I displayed a variety of facades to the public.  The masks I wore covered my lack of confidence, my inexperience, my impatience, and a host of other deficiencies.  

These masks were carefully chosen images leading others to believe I was a perfect student, experienced teacher, or good mom.  They were crafted to demonstrate that I was organized, patient, compassionate, kind, and confident.

In truth, I am none of those things consistently.  



Good gravy!  I'm a horrible housekeeper, the Princess of Procrastination, terribly timid, and fearful. Oh yeah, let's not forget controlling.

My kids wear the emotional scars of my once fiery temper.  I still yell far more than I'd like.  Some days I nickname myself "SpongeDeb Crankypants."  It might sound cute, but it's not something you'd want to watch!  

And that's just the stuff I can tell you till we're better acquainted!  (*Wink!)

And in reality, those good parts that you may now see have really only come about through Jesus.  He has changed my life.  He's gently peeled back the masks one by one, some worn so long they seemed my second skin.  His Word and His Spirit have taken an immature, judgmental, angry woman and slowly--over years--calmed her volcanic temper and given her a heart that loves others deeply.  He's got LOTS yet to do, but I know that He loves me and that He will complete the good work that He's started.  

You see, the more I get to know and love Jesus, the more I want others to see through me to Him...even if your view through me is cracked, smudged, or sometimes foggy.  He's the One worthy of notice and admiration.  So instead of the power of invisibility, I offer transparency.  It's the newest superpower.  





Photos taken at 2010 Hero Headquarters V.B.S.--God is my hero!





It's my belief that the shedding of masks enables us to connect with others.  Transparency offers others the gift of being real, that "I'm not the only one!" realization, encouragement, and hope.  

It's the gift--superpower, if you wish--that I've been given, and it's the gift I extend to others.

So, here at the beginning of this blog relationship, you need to know this:  I don't have it all together.  Heck, I can't even find half the pieces!  And a few of the ones I may be able to locate are probably glued to the kitchen floor with something sticky!  

I'm finding my way just like you.  I hope that by being transparent and honest about the way things really are, you will be encouraged as we journey life together.

##
Copyright 2012 The Word Weaver, Deb Weaver 


]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/03/15/the-superpower-i-seek#comments 6 "Winter Day Rest" The Word Weaver, Deb The Word Weaver, Deb "Winter Day Rest"

An eggshell blue expanse
Stretched out across my view,
A gauzy, white coverlet
Drawn up against its shoulders,
A warm, golden kiss
http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/03/04/winter-day-rest Sun, 04 Mar 2012 13:46:00 +0000 http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/03/04/winter-day-rest
"Winter Day Rest"

An eggshell blue expanse
Stretched out across my view,
A gauzy, white coverlet
Drawn up against its shoulders,
A warm, golden kiss
Bestowed upon its cheek,
The cozy, gently-hued companions
Cuddled together above the earth,
Winter afternoon's nap,
Peaceful interlude.


##
Copyright 2012, The Word Weaver, Deb Weaver


]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/03/04/winter-day-rest#comments 2 "When Superman Ages" The Word Weaver, Deb The Word Weaver, Deb http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/02/29/when-superman-ages Wed, 29 Feb 2012 21:08:00 +0000 http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/02/29/when-superman-ages
My Dad came to visit recently. He stayed for ten days; we thoroughly enjoyed the time. We ate way too much, laughed, reminisced, and savored moments together.

Since I don't see him regularly, (he lives in Michigan), changes are pronounced when I do see him. This visit was especially so. He seemed very vulnerable. Fragile. And, during this first visit since my Mom died, sad and uncertain.

There was a time he could do anything, fix anything. When we were young, he built an ice rink in our backyard every winter. He valued education and introduced me to the Grand Canyon and other wonders. He had high expectations and could put me in my place with one look. I learned respect, timeliness, and commitment from my Dad. For many years he cared for my ailing Mom and bravely said goodbye to her last July.

For being eighty-two years old, he's still in pretty good shape and quite active. He attends the senior center, rides his bike, ushers at church, visits yard sales, and makes wisecracks. You'll often find him working crossword puzzles, reading, creating wood crafts, refinishing furniture, or baking. He spoils his grandchildren and delights in his dog.



Dad feeding his dog, Scamp, corn on the cob! Can we say spoiled rotten?!


During our time together, I couldn't help but notice pronounced changes: the hesitancy in his step, his carefulness in navigating steps and, at times, his lack of balance. He tires more easily. Watching how closely he held things to his eyes broke my heart. The passage of times leaves indelible marks.

Though I have practically believed my Dad could fly, his aging humanity and fragility warn me otherwise. Still, he's my hero. Always my hero.

When I dropped him off at the airport, I felt like a Mama bird monitoring her loved one as he takes flight. As I watched him get in the line for inspection, my heart crowded into my throat and tears were not far from the surface. I wanted to storm security and accompany him every step of his trip home where my sister was waiting for him. An overreaction. Unnecessary. But true. It was a bittersweet goodbye.

So what do you do when Superman ages?

If you are like me, your heart clenches. Then you shed some tears, hold him closer, pray often, and treasure every opportunity to express love to and for him.



Dad and one of his girls...February 2012




##
Copyright 2012, The Word Weaver, Deb Weaver


]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/02/29/when-superman-ages#comments 24 "Delight at Dusk" The Word Weaver, Deb The Word Weaver, Deb "Delight at Dusk"

As Day whispers goodnight,
I stand marveling,
Enchanted by the Artist's work before me.
Fresh, cold currents cleansing my lungs,
Kindly caressing my [...]]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/02/27/delight-at-dusk Mon, 27 Feb 2012 19:33:00 +0000 http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/02/27/delight-at-dusk
"Delight at Dusk"

As Day whispers goodnight,
I stand marveling,
Enchanted by the Artist's work before me.
Fresh, cold currents cleansing my lungs,
Kindly caressing my cheek;
In the buoyant, freeing air,
Tangled cares releasing while
Gracious, fading rays issue
A sacred invitation to all.

As Day whispers goodnight,
I stand savoring,
Enthralled by the Artist's work before me.
Warm, pure beauty saturating my thoughts,
Sweetly sharpening my wonder;
Within, my spirit awakens to others;
Tiny, winged creatures trilling in
Distant towering trees,
Barren branches lifting in awe.

As Day whispers goodnight,
We stand communing,
Enraptured by the Artist's work before us.
Lush, soft color flooding our senses,
Quietly capturing our imagination;
Across the sheer blue landscape,
Rose-dipped clouds mingling with
Delicate strokes of lilac
On the vast, ever-changing canvas,
As Day whispers goodnight.

##
Copyright 2012, The Word Weaver, Deb Weaver




]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/02/27/delight-at-dusk#comments 4 To See With the Heart of a Child The Word Weaver, Deb The Word Weaver, Deb
Early morning, Christmas festivities.

Boy and girl. Shining eyes. Smiles that dominate faces.

Identically shaped gifts in hand.

Wonder and anticipation.

Wrapping paper [...]]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/02/11/to-see-with-the-heart-of-a-child Sat, 11 Feb 2012 22:47:00 +0000 http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/02/11/to-see-with-the-heart-of-a-child
Early morning, Christmas festivities.

Boy and girl. Shining eyes. Smiles that dominate faces.

Identically shaped gifts in hand.

Wonder and anticipation.

Wrapping paper tearing to shreds.

Surprised gasps giving way to shrieks of joy!

Two young bodies bouncing up and down. Parents grinning.

Suddenly, five year old Abby flings out her arms and raises her voice, "WAIT! WAIT! I KNOW HOW THIS HAPPENED!!!"

Seeing she has everyone's attention, she continues, "One day when I was alone with Shelfie (their Elf on a Shelf), I whispered a secret to him--that we wanted Nooks--and he must have told Santa!" Then she and her brother continue their celebration...



Photo courtesy of A.J. Weaver




When my friend shared this story of her daughter in our small group, I thought of something I'd recently read in The Circle Maker by Mark Batterson (highly recommend, by the way!) He wrote,
"A few years ago, I read one sentence that changed the way I pray. The author, pastor of one of the largest churches in Seoul, Korea, wrote, 'God does not answer vague prayers.' When I read that statement I was immediate convicted by how vague my prayers were. Some of them were so vague that there was no way of knowing whether God had answered them or not."

That is so true. But when we pray specifically--telling God exactly what we want, need, and hope for ourselves, our loved ones, and our world--we can more easily look for and recognize His answers.

Then, like Abby, we can stop in our tracks and, with excitement and awe, share what we know. "Wait! Wait! I KNOW how this happened! I asked the Lord, and He answered! This is what God has done!" And then I can return to Him with thanks and praise.

How about you? Are you with me?

Let's ask our loving, trustworthy Father specifically.

Let's anticipate His answers.

Let's acknowledge His handiwork.

Let's adore Him.


##
Copyright 2012, The Word Weaver, Deb Weaver


]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/02/11/to-see-with-the-heart-of-a-child#comments 2 "Transplanted" The Word Weaver, Deb The Word Weaver, Deb "Beauty in the Shadows." If you would like to read that, you may find it in the grief category or click here.

Being able to express my emotions into [...]]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/02/10/transplanted Fri, 10 Feb 2012 00:25:00 +0000 http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/02/10/transplanted "Beauty in the Shadows." If you would like to read that, you may find it in the grief category or click here.

Being able to express my emotions into the words of this poem was a large step toward beginning to deal with them. During that time and since then, I have spent a lot of time in prayer, searching Scripture, remembering God's promises, soaking up the beauty and solace of creation, and seeking to be grateful for life's moments. Hope and joy are returning.

But in the thick of the crisis, all I could do was sob. And that's okay. Sometimes that's what's needed~to get it out, to admit it, to desperately seek the One who knows, who cares, who understands, to wait for direction and help.

(Please feel free to share both these posts with friends and loved ones who may be hurting, grieving, or feeling hopeless. A primary goal of this blog is to encourage others. I'd appreciate if you'd also include my copyright notice that follows each post; thanks for understanding!)



Photo taken in Falls Park, Greenville, South Carolina, February 2012.




"Transplanted"

Into a foreign soil
I have been transplanted by grief.
It is a cold, fearful, lonely land.
Plunged into the bitter soil of loss and pain,
my roots flinch;
I tremble and sob.

Into a foreign soil
I have been transplanted by grief.
It is a brutal, raw, crushing land.
My trunk is slammed by whirling barrages of emotion,
my roots gasp;
I stagger and sob.

Into a foreign soil
I have been transplanted by grief.
It is an unending, hostile, costly land.
Heaving my cares into the vast sky of silence and stars,
my roots gaze;
I ache and sob.

Into a foreign soil
I have been transplanted by grief.
It is a desperate, anxious, weary land.
My soul is tormented by a maelstrom of regret and worry, but
my roots remember;
I worship and sob.

Into a foreign soil
I have been transplanted by grief.
It is a forsaken, bleak, harsh land.
Yet even here, Jesus infuses the peace of His presence into the ragged heart of His child,
my roots receive;
I quiet and breathe
within His embrace.

##
Copyright 2012, The Word Weaver, Deb Weaver




Photo taken in Garden of the Gods, Colorado, November 2011.


]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/02/10/transplanted#comments 8 Divine Design The Word Weaver, Deb The Word Weaver, Deb "Divine Design"

Strutting across Earth's stage,
Spotlighted by shimmering rays of morning light:
Miss South Carolina Sky,
Wearing this year's cold weather collection--
http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/02/09/divine-design Thu, 09 Feb 2012 23:24:00 +0000 http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/02/09/divine-design
"Divine Design"

Strutting across Earth's stage,
Spotlighted by shimmering rays of morning light:
Miss South Carolina Sky,
Wearing this year's cold weather collection--
A full-length, robin's egg blue coat
Encircled by
A chunky, crocheted, winter white scarf.
Displaying natural beauty,
Smiling with warmth and welcome,
She dazzles the audience
Who applauds this Designer!

##
Copyright 2012, The Word Weaver, Deb Weaver


]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/02/09/divine-design#comments 2 Beauty in the Shadows The Word Weaver, Deb The Word Weaver, Deb The past few years have been heavy. Difficult. Disorienting. Disconcerting. Draining. There’s been an intensity that has weighed down and overshadowed everything.

Our dear, close friends experienced a terrible tragedy that still has ongoing effects three years later. My family has tried to walk alongside them through [...]]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/02/09/beauty-in-the-shadows Thu, 09 Feb 2012 18:03:00 +0000 http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/02/09/beauty-in-the-shadows The past few years have been heavy. Difficult. Disorienting. Disconcerting. Draining. There’s been an intensity that has weighed down and overshadowed everything.

Our dear, close friends experienced a terrible tragedy that still has ongoing effects three years later. My family has tried to walk alongside them through the ordeal. Beforehand, we thought it would turn out one way. We all prayed hard, and yet, the unthinkable happened.

And we were tossed to and fro by violent, tsunami-like emotions.

Shock. Unbelief. Growing horror. Grief. Devastation. Profound pain. Hearts bleeding while struggling with harsh realities.

Our faith was jolted, and questions besieged us. We held each other and sobbed. We wept before the Lord. We expressed our confusion and wounds to Him. There have been no easy answers; in fact, there are still many questions.

And yet, I experienced the soothing sweetness of God’s presence as I grieved. Again and again, I returned to the foundational things I KNOW to be true of God.

• He is good. He loves me. He is with me.

• He knows. He cares. He understands.

• He is for me. He’s on my side. He intercedes for me.

• Nothing surprises Him. He is in control. He’s trustworthy.

• He sovereignly works ALL things—even tragic, senseless things—for the good of his children and for His eternal purposes.

• If He allows it, there’s a good, important reason; He will work in and through it.



Photo courtesy of my son, musician, and artist, A.J. Weaver, Shot at Lake Jocassee, SC, 2012


The storm worsened this past year. I’ve clung to these truths even more when the pain became even more intensely personal and I was submerged deeply into depression. The foundational truths became my lifejacket.

In January, I experienced some frightening, deeply personal, shocking disappointments. I struggled to grapple with them. A few months later, I began to experience some disturbing health problems. My sleep patterns which had been marked for the past eight years with a recurring nightmare took a turn for the worse. I began to be awakened several times a night with a beeping sound that no one else heard. My doctor could not determine the cause. We unsuccessfully searched our home for possible alarms that could emit beeps at odd times. I became desperate for sleep.

I enlisted many friends to pray about this situation. After a week, relief came. Thankfully, though the nightmares continue, the beeping has stopped. Then, unbelievably, shingles developed a month later. Discouragement reigned supreme within me!

A few weeks later in late July, my Mom died. I am so grateful for the precious moments my family and I experienced during her last week on this earth. I cherish the privilege of being with her when she was carried to her new Home in the arms of Jesus, but the loss is unimaginable. There is no feeling like being motherless. Especially for a Mama’s girl.

It was then that I encountered more pain. Deception. Lying to protect me which ended up puncturing me instead. Though it was motivated by love, I felt betrayed. Anger. Hurt. Fear. Hopelessness.

The waves of grief were enormous and endless.

Just as I was starting to get my footing back, another wave would knock me off my feet and flip me back under the surface.

Pain permeated my soul.

Gasping for breath and pierced through my being, there were no words for prayer, just unuttered cries. Nightly my tearful eyes and aching heart searched the starry skies and soaked in its soothing silence. When I could utter words, only one emerged, “Father!” He heard. He was there. And I am grateful.

Though circumstances have not altered much, I have learned many things in the darkness and shadows. I have discovered:

There can be hope when it seems most hopeless.

Beauty in the shadows. Forgiveness in love. Healing in tears. Refuge in prayer.

There is unexplainable peace in the midst of the frightening storm.

Comfort in the night sky. Kisses in a sunny day. Encircling love of friends.

There is joy in the laughter of my family that bonds us.

These are just a few of the gifts of grace to be opened every day if I look for them.

But my greatest, most cherished gift has been this: I have drawn closer to God, who is absolutely trustworthy and who never leaves me.

My anger doesn’t push Him away. My questions don’t offend Him. My limited vision doesn’t embarrass Him. My tears don’t irritate Him. My needs don’t overwhelm Him.

He holds me through it all like the caring, compassionate Father that He is. He’s in my life for the long haul. He’s Immanuel—God with us. Oh, I love Him for that.

So, yes, these past few years have been dark and difficult, but I am okay. And as Holocaust survivor and author Corrie ten Boom says, “When a train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark, you don’t throw away the ticket and jump off. You sit still and trust the Engineer.”

My God is fully capable and in control. He knows where He’s taking my life and what detours are needed along the way. Whether we travel with sunny skies or deep darkness, I’m going to sit still and trust Him.

*A related post, "Transplanted", is a poem written during this time of grief. If you'd like to read it, please look for it under the category of Grief or click here.

##
Copyright 2012, The Word Weaver, Deb Weaver


]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/02/09/beauty-in-the-shadows#comments 18 Senseless The Word Weaver, Deb The Word Weaver, Deb http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/02/07/senseless Tue, 07 Feb 2012 14:45:00 +0000 http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/02/07/senseless www.flickr.com. She said, "Mom, just write. What do you think of when you see this?"

What I saw broke my heart. For though my poem is fictional, I know that many, many children live in fearful, dangerous situations all over this world.

I hope this post inspires you to pray for children. To love the ones you know lavishly. To be a safe place for them. To help those you you can. To act on their behalf. To be the difference that will help them make sense of their world and enable them to live freely.



Special thanks to D. Sharon Pruitt (Pink Sherbet Photography), the original owner of this photo, 206812690. Used by permission of her creative commons license.


"Senseless"

Awakened in the dark,
I lie,
Tense and taut.
Sounds like pain,
Feels like fear.

Compelled toward the light,
I creep,
Silent and sly.
Smells like danger,
Feels like fear.

Hidden behind the chair,
I peer,
quivering and quiet.
Looks like war,
Feels like fear.

Flung between them,
I strike,
Heavy and hard.
Tastes like death,
Feels like freedom.

##
Copyright 2012, The Word Weaver, Deb Weaver


]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/02/07/senseless#comments 10 "Winter Trees & Me" The Word Weaver, Deb The Word Weaver, Deb "Winter Trees & Me"

Faithful sentinels braced against the winter winds,
Their honesty beckons me.
Naked souls~
Aching,
Pleading,
http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/02/06/winter-trees-me Mon, 06 Feb 2012 12:00:00 +0000 http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/02/06/winter-trees-me
"Winter Trees & Me"

Faithful sentinels braced against the winter winds,
Their honesty beckons me.
Naked souls~
Aching,
Pleading,
Plaintive, yet silent.

Unseen tears slipping down roughened cheeks,
Their beauty beckons me.
Bereft season~
Straining,
Grasping,
Vulnerable, yet resilient.

Barren arms outstretched toward Heaven,
Our kinship beckons me.
Yearning hearts~
Hoping,
Healing,
Reaching, yet waiting.

##
Copyright 2012, Deb Weaver, The Word Weaver




]]> http://thewordweaver.com/blog/2012/02/06/winter-trees-me#comments 4