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.

going back

Originally Posted in '02

"Last night I said goodbye.


I carefully tucked my remaining journals and memorabilia into a box. I cried as I put the lid on, and slid the once empty box back on its shelf in my closet. Last night I learned that saying goodbye to someone doesn’t mean you are forgetting….


You knew my name before I was even born. You wept with joy when I came into this world. You were there to greet me. You held me in your arms, and kissed my forehead. I brought your life a new purpose.

You held my hand when I met my little brother for the first time. You dried the tears that came from the pain of falling from my first bike. You were there to shoot home videos of my romp with the sprinkler in the backyard. Your face lit up at my very presence.You drove on my field trips. You watched my dances. You cheered when I scored a goal. You begged me to sing for you. You wanted nothing but the best for me.

You watched me grow up. Looking at my face became a mirror image for you. You taught me the difference between right and wrong. You taught me to stand up for my self. You taught me to love the Lord.You saw me win the lead in the 7th grade musical Grease. You told everyone you knew that I was playing Sandy. You watched me develop life long friends. You watched me being admired by the boys. You watched your little girl turn into a young woman.

Somewhere along the line, your physical presence left. I broke into a million pieces. I held on to everything that reminded me of you. I vowed to never let go. Today is somewhat different. Almost everything I had held onto, I put into that box. Ticket stubs from movies we had seen. Notes you had written to me. Petals from the roses that lay atop your coffin just moments before they laid you to rest. My number 12 jersey. Your favorite tie. Too many priceless, irreplaceable objects…

Although I say goodbye to the things, I will never truly say goodbye to you. You are a part of me. So often people who knew you will say to me ‘You are just like your dad’. And I know that I am. If ever it was possible to make a carbon copy of your self, well, you did it. It’s me.I no longer see your eyes, except for in the mirror. I know you still watch me. I know that you are still with me. I still have so much to do, so much to accomplish. I know you’ll be there- in my heart. You’ve run your race. And now you are at the finish line, cheering me on.

Dad, I love you. And as hard as it is to do, I am moving on. I’ve taken the lessons you have taught, the love you have shown, and I hidden them in my heart. You are such a part of me, you always will be. But I know now that it is time to begin relying on my heavenly father, OUR father.

You were always my hero. The wind beneath my wings- I sang it at your funeral, you know. Today I choose to take refuge in the shadow of Jesus. I choose to take my cross and follow him. I choose to let him be my strength, and ‘mount on wings as eagles’. And I am confident that no choice I could ever make would make you more proud to be my dad. "


Today

Last night I opened the box. I sat in my rocking chair and held your ties. I used them to wipe my tears. I looked through the photographs of you and I, playing soccer, at awards banquets. I re-read letters that your friends had written me after you died- telling me stories of how they met you, how you influenced their lives, how they were going to miss you. I sat and sobbed for what seemed like hours. My heart hurt so badly I felt as if it might have burst. I thought about you, and what it must have felt like to know your heart had stopped working. I wonder if you knew that is what was happening. I wonder about the last thoughts that went through your mind. I know you took your last breath while looking into my eyes. Did you feel my hands holding yours? Did you recognize the fear in my eyes? I remember the fear in yours...


In less than 2 weeks they will be holding the Annual Randy Langan Memorial Soccer Tournament in your honor. I've promised myself that I will go. I'm going to sit and watch a game. I hate to be back on the field, dad, I fear every emotion that may surface. I'm scared. I want to run away again.


I don't want strength this year. I want brokeness. I've held on to the pain for long, it has become a part of me, and I know it's going to hurt as it begins to wear away. God, if you are listening- I NEED YOU TO HOLD ME THROUGH THIS!