Goodnight

When the sun fades behind the hills, and the stretch of sky turns to grey, you are there. I see your face in the wind through the trees. Peace follows your path, as if it were a frangrance you put on each day. I know you. I feel you. And, I need you.

Please fill my mind with you as my body falls to slumber. Protect my head and my heart as my dreams begin to unfold, and I am captivated in another world.

I'm asking for signs and wonders. I am expecting a miracle.

give freedom a chance

I'm trying. It's true.

I desire to surrender my will to the Fantastic.
I plan to be spontaneous in my actions of love.
I request a wisdom and grace that are not my own.
I would like to forget who I was, and even where I have been.
All is new. I have been lost in Him, and I pray that *I* never emerge again.

Father God, tap the potential you see in me. Move me beyond myself and my desires. Take my heart and make is pure. Be my first thought each morning, and my last each night. Fill my days with your joy and your peace. You are. That's more that I could ever need.

Thank you for showing up right where I wasn't looking. Thanks for being a God of surprise and awe and wonder.

For one moment in my life, I would give everything I am, everything I could dream to be to have one person look at me and only see you.

Please restore my fire. Show me your blueprints, and give me your dreams.

I think we are ready.

truth.

Sometime I have a peace, like I know some marvelous secret. It fills my very soul with joy and I fell as though I may burst out and giggle for no reason. Some nights when I lay my head on the pillows before I fall asleep I realize my cheeks are actually sore from smiling. My dreams are filled with hope and revelation, and my soul is free. These are the days that I know Him, my prince who adores me. Who gives all to know me. Some girls dream of a knight in shining armour, I realize that I already have mine.

I am inspired to live dangerously, love recklessly and laugh excessively. My life is enchanted, and I am the princess in the land of splendor and freedom.

Praise Him for everything. He asks for no less.

i look back

I am reminded of our last 'family' outing. We gathered blankets and the cooler, and headed to Folsom to watch the fireworks after the rodeo. I'm sure that I was embarrassed and humiliated by my parents, something I would take back a million times if I could.

I remember laying on the grass, watching the sky. You could trace along the edge of the rockets, and predict when they might explode. Something so small, became something so big. Everyone watching would ooh and aah, and we were all captivated by the show of dramatic colors and beautifully designed patterns.

That night my sleep was interrupted by a life-like dream. I didn't know what had happened, but I woke up with the physical heart-wrenching pain of knowing my dad had died. I've managed to let the actual dream details get blurred over the years, but I remember that feeling as if it were yesterday. I cried for a long time in my bed, and I remember praying for God to take my nightmares away...

The next day I couldn't shake the dream feeling. It was like I had shot a gun, and no matter how much I tried, I couldn't get wash the residue away. Later that night I talked with my mom about my dream. I cried as I tried to tell her how much my heart had hurt, and how worried I was that something would happen to my dad. She encouraged me to talk to him, so I did.

Dad promised me that he was fine. He said "I promise, I am not going to die tomorrow." I didn't buy it. He proceeded to fish out his insurance papers, attempting to appease me by proving regardless, my family would be okay. He talked about loosing his own father at a young age, and then after a long and thoughtful pause, he told me "Beth, someday I won't be here. When that happens, DON'T TURN YOUR BACK ON GOD"..... (emphasis my own). That night I slept peacefully. It was the last time that would happen for many years.

Thursday, July 6, 1995- started like most other days. I got up, and my dad had breakfast on the table. We exchanged some words, and he left, telling me to be ready for practice early, as we were going to go over some drills before the other girls got there. I went to summer school with my friend Jenny, and then rushed home to eat ice cream and watch soap operas. Why we do what we do in Junior High, I'll never know. Around 4:30 that afternoon I began to put on my soccer gear. Dad got home, we loaded up, and went to practice. Only a few hours later my dad collapsed on the field. I told him to get up or I would kick him. He didn't move. I held his hand and watched as his eyes sent signs of panic. He made the most horrid noise I have ever heard. I didn't know what to do. When his eyes closed, I got up and ran. I fell nearby, where the dirt and tears made mud on my hands and face.

I, being me, composed myself somewhat and grabbed my dads cell phone out of the car. Someone else was calling 911, so I called the family I was supposed to baby-sit for that night and said I thought my dad had a heart attack (where did I get that from??) and I wouldn't make it. I gave them a number of a friend. Then I called my mom. And my aunt. And nobody could be reached. When I think back now, this was the defining moment when I first felt alone. My attention immediately turned to my brother. Mom had dropped him off earlier on her way to a meeting. He had been playing on the swings, but was now hiding behind the bleachers. He was watching, and I knew he was afraid. And here began my compulsive need to protect him...

The rest of that evening is a blur. I told people that my grandfather had died at 40 of a heart attack, and that I was sure my own dad was having a heart attack at 40 too. My team trainer and the EMS worker asked me to go with my dad in the ambulance, but I said no. I stayed with Danny. At some point my aunt came in my mom's car to pick us up, and we went straight to the hospital. I remember being taken to a small white room where Danny and I waited with Aunt Theresa and Uncle Bob. We prayed. And then Mom came in, with a few friends behind her and the only words she said were "He's gone". I managed to escape with no one noticing, as Danny began to wail, and everyone else was holding each other.

I walked straight to my dads room. Call it a sixth sense, I knew right where to find him. I stood there for a long time. Silent. Unbelieving. How could the man who lay there be my dad. He looked just like him, but I knew it wasn't HIM. I got myself in trouble with a nurse for cutting off some of his hair... When I was escorted out, I walked into a waiting room full of my friends. All I wanted was to be alone. I left, and hid in the bathroom, until they told us we could leave. I just wanted to be alone. Alone in my practice jersey, my cleats still on, the muddy face with tear stained eyes was all I had left. The feeling from my dream was back. And every part of my body, especially my heart, was in excruciating pain.

Driving home, the only thought in my mind was- Dad, you PROMISED not today.

Today, the fireworks are everywhere. And, just the smell of them gives me a pain in the pit of my stomach. A pain of knowing that I knew, that I couldn't save him, the pain that he's gone. And today, I miss him, I miss what my family USED to be. And, I am deeply sad.

and the paradigm keeps shifting

I thought I had it all figured out. And then God spoke to my heart:

Beloved, do you not remember my words? Have you forgotten that I have a plan? You have stepped aside from the path I have made for you. You have never walked alone. You seek comfort in the hands of men, and you forget that I loved you first. Take hold of MY hands, and let ME see your heart. You were created in my image, beautiful among queens. You are my princess, and it is YOU that I died to save. Come away with me, to a place that I can fill your heart, and soul, and mind. Depend on me for strength. All that you need, I am.

Father, make me steadfast and true. Take away my guilt and shame, and make me free in you... Thank you for NEVER letting me go...

take me away...

A land of fairytale dreams.

Where everyone lives with the love of the Savior.
Where my heart is whole, and my soul is free.
Where dogs can talk, and cats can dream.

Here, people aren't scared.
We speak our minds.
We speak in love.
We fear no evil.

In my land our fathers can't die.
Nobody blames us.
We are always protected.
Nobody beats us.
We walk with pride.
Nobody leaves us.

There are trees blooming with treats.
Instead of dollars we have hugs and smiles.
Every ill has a cure.
Every heart can be mended.
Every soul has a mate.
You can find confidence by the mile.

In my land of fairytale dreams...
I can trust.
I can love.
I can be loved.
I can ask for help.
Not that I need it.
I'm defended.
I'm protected.
I'm adored.
I'm perfected.
I can be pure.
I can be reverent.
I can adore.
I can follow.
I can be like Him.
As much as is possible.
I'm strong.
I'm brave.
I'm tough.
I'm tender.

People look at me and say:
She's real.
She's loved.
She's safe.
She's got something special.
I want to know her.
I want to understand her.
I want to meet the man who changed her life.


Here I eat apples and almond butter.
I'm beautiful inside and out.
I know how to help.
I know how to give.
I love unconditionally.
I pray without ceasing.
I'm allergic to nothing.
My skin never breaks out.
My abs are made of steel.
My heart is made as soft as gold.

Here, somebody loves me.
He sees something different.
I let him in.
And he chooses to stay.
He knows my true soul.
He adores my imperfections.
I give him my hand.
So he can marry me one day.

he told me so

My worth is in Him alone. He is my Father. He knows every hair on my head. He sees every move I make. He knows the number of my days. He sees my destiny. I fearfully and wonderfully made. He carries me close to His heart. He will bring me home one day. He promised to take away all the pain.

He designed me. He defines Love. He desired to Love me. I am His treasure.

He knows my heart. I am made in His image. He will never leave me. He is perfect. He knows of, and provides for all my needs. He will never do me harm. He calls me daughter. He knew my name before I was a twinkle in my mothers eye. He chose me to be His own.He wants me to be part of great things. He is right where He said he would be. He will give me the desires of my heart. He created my desires. He can do more than I could EVER imagine.

He is my redemption. He keeps no score cards. He died for me.

He has Hope for my future. His love will never end. He sings about me. He abandoned Heaven and the angels to be with me. Nothing can separate me from his perfect Love. He has time for me. He will always BE. He is my biggest fan. His arms are always open for me. He holds me when I cry.

He is patient.

He waits for me.

51... even if i'm the only one still counting

Happy would-be Birthday Dad!

Well, just so you know- old man, I went to the cemetary today. Big shocker, I know. I'm not sure if you saw me, but I was there. It's been quite a few years- I almost couldn't find the marker. But, I did, and I plugged my iPod into my head and I sang to you. And, let's be honest, I cried a little, too. I wanted to bring something; I thought about flowers, and maybe writing out a card. But I knew it wouldn't actually mean anything. Besides, I have no eloquent words, or fancy things to say. Just the heart of your little girl, missing you today.

Seriously dad, today it was like you were really still here. Honestly, so surreal. I just sang so loud, even while it rained. And I could feel you smiling. I prayed that God would let you sit and listen for awhile, and it sure felt like he did.

I really can't believe you have been gone this long. It seems like yesterday we were driving to Sonora making up verses to "Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay', and booking hotels for soccer tournaments. I miss you everyday. Sometimes, like right now, I still cry a little. Even though it feels so selfish, I want you to be here- just for 10 minutes, to hug me, and laugh, and tell me that you love me. That you are proud of who I have become.

I hope you know how much I love you. You are a standard to which I compare all men. Thank you for your example of what a Godly man should be. Even though it's easy for me to dwell on the fact that you are gone, I know that God gave me an amazing father. I look at others in my life, and feel confident to say that I got more in our 13 years than most people get in a lifetime. I have to learn to hold on to that when I miss you. Then again, maybe that's why I miss you so much more...

Sometimes I wonder if when the heavens are still you can hear my voice. When there is a break in the clouds, can you see me at all? Do you know when I am talking about you? My heart burns for the day when I will get to see you again. Trust me, you'll recognize me, even though I'm all grown up. YOU know my soul and my spirit. You always did. Maybe even better any one else. I still remember sitting in the living room and you explaining to me that I saw the world differently than most people. You said we were the same. You told me that I had something people wouldn't always understand. I never understood until now. I had YOU.

You were everyone's favorite. My friends all loved you. Your employee's loved you. People in the church loved you. The community loved you. Professional sports teams held moments of silence in your honor for pete's sake! The newspapers ran articles... You changed people. You left a mark, a legacy.

So, here we are. Somethings, like my memories never change. Others do...
Mom got married. Marty is a good man who loves her. I think you'd have liked him.
Dan is a man. Really. He's tall like you. He loves Jesus. The scary thing is that you have been gone from his life just as long as you were in it...

Me. I miss you the most. But, I'm good. I'm like you. I hear it all the time. Well, maybe I'm a tad more responsible...
Really... I have a good job, and a nice home. I'm going back to school in July. Bachelor of Business Administration. (See, right up your alley!) I'm even paying for it all on my own. :-) I got a dog, and oh yes, I wear contacts now (again, sound familiar). I think I'm doing ok...

51. Today. I don't know if anyone besides me still counts, but I do. Even though God has sent me many blessings, I still love you like you were here. And I probably appreciate you even more now... I wish I had something to give you. I just hope there is some way you know that my heart is there. I know you took a piece of it with you when you left.

About that... When you see the man that God has for me, will you please watch over him. And when it's time for me to get married- will you send me a sign that you are there? That you support me. Dad, speak to that man, and give him that piece of my heart, so he can return it to me on that day. I know it seems silly, but if anyone could even understand what that would mean, it would be you...

I miss you. I love you. And today I remember the man you were.

No daughter could ever be more proud than me.

Happy Birthday.

what happened was...

Time goes by, and things always change. I'm not sure what encourages us to fight the inevitable, or why we seem to cling to a glimmer of hope that nobody but ourselves can actually see. I can recall moments that I could have sworn I'd seen that glimmer before- but looking back I bet it was only a mirage. It is widely known that heat and thirst often produce hallucinations. People traveling through the desert often find themselves seeing large bodies of water in the distance. The problem with seeing these bodies of water or "mirages" is that they continually lead to nothing of the sort. Mirages are a glimmer of hope that we see to make ourselves keep going. I mean honestly, if you didn't have hope that something wonderful was ahead of you in your life, why would you continue. Without substantial cause to endure, I would collapse on the ground and breathe my last.

I've come to the conclusion that our heart can also produce mirages. And I believe that they look different to each person. I know that I have, for so much of my life seen the same sparkle ahead of me. It has given me the strength to keep moving, keep striving, keep pursuing.... I have held on to my hope so tightly, and for SO long that I sometimes I forget it is there. Today I can look at myself, and realize that what I thought I wanted, this driving force behind my life, isn't present anymore. It became a part of me while I wasn't looking and it disappeared in the same fashion. Something in me has shifted, and I didn't even notice.

In a life that is defined by the balance of what we hold on to, and what we let go of, I more often than not find my self dwelling in the holding on. In other words, there is not a balance. I desperately fear becoming content in the momentum of mediocrity, but I play it safe, and hold onto what I know. I have created a world for myself where everything I want is within my reach. Because I have held on to my friends, my family, and my ideals- regardless of the cost, I have managed to keep myself surrounded. Comfortable.

I have no thirst. There is no heat. No mirage of vision or heart. No dreams, but, no disappointments.

I want things to stay the same. But, I know that the one thing that is inevitable is change. It always comes. I've tried so hard to resist, to pretend that it's not impending. It's really the paradox of my life- Fear of loss of control through change, yet desperation for a hope and a thirst. The problem with that is hope prompts the response of change. Growth. Letting go.

Truth be told: I am afraid of what I crave the most.

Father, make me desperate. Give me thirst, passion, adoration, kindness, struggle, blessing, dreams, courage, your will. Regardless...
May your fire burn me to the core, the heat of your holiness penetrate my soul and bubble up my impurities. Give me the spark to ignite a nation, but more importantly the spark ignite my own spirit. And my I rejoice in you. For in my weakness, you are strong.

in an old place

I sat today in a familiar chair. I was surrounded by faces I knew, though difficult to see through the air of sorrow. The reasons I was present seemed to make sense until I arrived in the sanctuary. The room was filled with the aroma of candles and flowers and tears. They called it a 'Celebration of Life'. I saw the reality of so many souls trying to make sense of a loss, but overflowing with grief. The truth is that even though we may want to "celebrate" a friend who is with the Lord- we go to be with others who feel our PAIN.



It's been years since I have attended a funeral/memorial/celebration of life service. I don't like going, and I usually find a way to avoid going. I think I can count on one hand each one I have been to. The first was my dads. I was thirteen, and the only clear memories of that day are what I have re-lived through letters and part of the service on tape. Since then I have attended Melissa's, Aubrey's, and Greg's. Melissa and Aubrey were friends of my family. Melissa was like a sister, having spent countless holidays with her family. I remember getting that phone call, and flying to Colorado. Aubrey was one of my brother's best friends. I remember that I didn't cry. I felt no emotion. Greg was my Aunt's boyfriend. I had just spent the day at the fair with him. I had dreamed of his death before it happened. All three were sudden. There was no illness. No time for anyone to say good-bye.



Ron passed away in December. He had been sick for a year and a half. We knew his passing was coming. I anticipated the tears, and the heartache for his wife and children. I knew that my shoulder was needed as a comfort, that several around me would depend on my strength. What I had failed to prepare myself for was the wave of emotions that would swell over me like a tsunami. I picked up my brother and we rode in silence. I know this is affecting him more than he knows, or has the words to verbalize. As I sat in the rear section and glanced around the room I remembered. The last BIG service I can recall Warehouse facilitating was Randy's. He was 40 when he died suddenly of a heart attack. He left behind a shocked widow, and two young and fragile children. His daughter was the only one of his immediate family to speak at his funeral. Had his family been prepared for his death, they might have come up with something clever to call it, but they didn't so it was called a funeral. Pastor Mike did the service, and it was heart wrenching. Many people were able to 'hold it together' through the worship, until his little girl rose in front of several hundred people to share what her father was to her. By the time she sang the first note of her own rendition of 'wind beneath my wings', there was not a dry eye in the whole building. At the end of the first verse you could watch her as her emotions overwhelmed her and tears began to stream down her face- she couldn't even speak. If you were paying close enough attention, you would have seen Cathy (a member of the worship team) lean in to her, and begin to sing the words so softly into her ear. His daughter finished the song, and let everyone know her sorrow, in the only way she knew how.


I heard a quote once that said something to the effect of "A true friend is one who knows the song of your soul and can sing it back to you when you forget the tune". I don't think I ever understood the meaning until those first few days of January, and I contemplated the Stilwell's loss. I thought about that day, when I, at quite possible my most venerable moment ever, forgot the words to my song. I was overcome with grief, and my heart was broken. And it was Ron's wife, Cathy that stood behind me and sang me the words of my song... My song to my dad. I watched her today as the crowds of people came to give her hugs and assure her that everything will be okay. I remember that time, as a line of people tried to tell you they they understood (they did after-all, their dog died...). Words on a day like today are empty. They mean nothing when your heart is shattered into a millions unrecognizable pieces.



As slides were shown, videos and songs shared, and hearts poured out into a sea of tear stained faces, I wept. I wept for the loss of Ron, and for the journey his family had just begun. I wept for Kristin and Caleb, and the feelings only another father-less kid can understand. I wept for the speakers who couldn't find words to do a man that they loved justice. I wept for my brother who couldn't come to terms with the loss of his own father. I wept for my broken mother, who's own wounds were freshly exposed, and who's daughter was no longer available to comfort her. I wept for the empty hearts who don't understand heaven, and the promise that was given through Jesus Christ. I wept for Cathy, because I knew nothing I could do or say would ease her pain, or comfort her.



Finally, I wept for myself. For the little girl who had to grow up to damn fast. For the little girl who became a crutch. For the girl who learned to stay strong, regardless of the cost. For the daughter who never got to say good-bye. And, for the woman who beginning to see a small glimpse of the little girl she used to be. I wept, and I opened my heart.



I often wonder what it would have been like if my dad had been ill. What would have changed, and would I be different today if I had got to say good-bye? I suppose I will never know.


In Braveheart, William Wallace says : All men will die, but not all men will truly live.


I want to live.