Sabbatical - Third Lesson - Sand and Boulders

Keep talking Lord, I'm listening!

 

Galveston Island is about 27 miles long.

I did not walk it's entire length,

though someday I would very much like to do that,

but I did explore it's entire length

and walked many miles of it.

I noticed some things on my walks.

 

Sand.

Sometimes the sand was soft and loose, warm and white.

On other areas of the beach the sand was more course and brown.

Sometimes it was cold and hard and wet.

Sometimes the wet sand was smooth

while just a few feet away it was rippled.

In some places, shells and seaweed littered the beach

and clams buried themselves leaving little holes dotting the surface.

Still other places, it was void of anything but sand and water.

Some places the sand was dull and flat,

others, it shimmered and glittered.

I could walk for miles uninterrupted

and suddenly come upon boulders, 

huge boulders, blocking my path, 

forcing a choice to climb over or go around.

Even in the boulders though, there was beauty.

Beauty in their formations and colors and sparkles and strength.

The first afternoon, I encountered boulders as I walked.

The flip-flops I was wearing 

along with the eventual crashing of the sea against the sea wall

made going over a poor choice.

(You may wonder how I know that.....)

The force of the water against the boulders,

the unknown beneath its surface,

and the eventual meeting of the water and the sea wall

made going around on the water side a poor choice.

And so I went above to the sea wall. 

As I walked, I discovered that the further southwest I went,

the quieter it got.

The busyness of the island,

the traffic along the tourist area,

the people sunning and playing and fishing,

all the noise and activity of vacationers

faded the nearer I came to the end of the seawall,

the closer I got to less popular beaches.

The sounds of civilization

stopped interfering with the crashing of the sea

and the blowing coastal winds.

I began to think about how like life the beach is.

Constantly changing, yet the same.

Every few feet, something new to see and navigate.

Boulders that seem insurmountable,

tempting an end of the walk.

Wrong choices that sometimes mean going back to the foot of the boulder

and starting again.

But my what we miss when we stop and stay at the foot of the boulders

or turn and go back from where we have come

rather than choosing a forward path!

The boulders seem impossible,

but there is strength in them!

Even when we choose the wrong path

and must start again,

there is beauty!

 

And you know, as I walked,

I did not walk alone! 

God walked with me!

He spoke to me in the lapping waves.

He spoke to me in the surf crashing against the boulders and the sea wall.

He spoke to me on the smooth, sparkling sand,

and on the littered, rippled sand.

Every. Single. Step.

He was there!

 

Keep talking Lord, I'm listening!

 

Sabbatical - a reminder and the second lesson

The Reminder...

 

"I'm watching the glittering surface 

as the sun reflects its brilliance and warms the moving depths. 

I see the birds "clam digging" 

and am reminded of the sparrow. 

You provide the needs of all Your creatures 

in Your glittering perfection. 

You will provide ours as well!"

 

From my journal later on that first day

“Therefore I tell you:  

Don’t worry about your life, 

what you will eat or what you will drink; 

or about your body, what you will wear. 

Isn’t life more than food and the body more than clothing?  

Consider the birds of the sky: 

They don’t sow or reap or gather into barns, 

yet your heavenly Father feeds them. 

Aren’t you worth more than they?  

Can any of you add one moment to his life span by worrying?  

And why do you worry about clothes? ...So don’t worry, saying,  

‘What will we eat?’ 

or 

‘What will we drink?’ 

or 

‘What will we wear?’  

For...your heavenly Father knows that you need them.  

But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness,  

and all these things will be provided for you.  

Therefore don’t worry about tomorrow..."

 

                                                    ~~ Matthew 6:25-27, 31, 32 CSB ~~ 

 

The lesson...

 

There were many reminders

and lessons during my sabbatical.

I know all these things.

But sometimes I forget.

And God is so faithful 

to gently and effectively remind me!

 

My second lesson came shortly after the reminder above.

 

I had been swimming and playing in the waves,

going out toward the horizon

then back in to shore.

Out toward the horizon,

back in to shore.

Over and over.

I did not come back to my journal

because I was exhausted,

rather, I came back because I wasn't!

 

I learned long ago that playing in the sea

is much easier when I let the waves do the work.

It has push and pull.

Regardless of which direction I am headed,

when I move that direction with the push

and ride the pull back,

then move with the push, 

ride the pull back,

I am able to watch the water,

the fish and birds, 

and very quickly and easily

arrive at my destination.

And I'm not tired and have enjoyed the journey.

 

Sometimes, if my goal is exercise,

I fight the push.

You know, try to keep my feet planted on the bottom

or even move forward against the waves and current.

It is exhausting!

And fruitless since 

I can not prevent the powerful waves and current

pushing me where they want.

 

Yes,

when I don't fight,

if I am in deeper water,

when I ride the push,

very often, my feet are lifted from the solid bottom.

Sometimes, as I get closer to shore,

I bump my knees or bottom

on the sand.

Sometimes I was lifted to the top of the wave

to ride it with laughter.

Sometimes a wave washed over me as it broke

taking me by surprise.

But I did not drown even then!

And those things happen MORE

when I fight the waves!

 

It hit me!

God is the waves!

He carries me with the waves

as I allow Him! 

My journey is much more joyous

when I cooperate with Him in it

rather than fighting against the "waves" I don't like!

 

Teach me, oh my God,

teach me to rely wholly on You!

Teach me to trust You ~~~

~~~ in ALL the waves!  

 

 

Sabbatical - The week before, the first lesson

From my prayer journal the week before my sabbatical:

 

I'm trying, Lord God!

I really am!

I'm trying to be positive and cheerful,

to trust You,

have faith,

but my head hurts

and I can't breath

and I'm scared...

 

Carry me, Lord,

for I cannot walk just now. 

 

Have you been here?

In the past months ~

who am I kidding? ~

in the past four years,

since my Lanny Love's diagnosis

of an autoimmune disease,

I have felt this way much of the time.

And the onset of Covid...

Well, suffice it to say,

this Before Al's Death (BAD) non-worrier

has become a worrier in a BIG way.

 

BAD, I didn't worry.

I trusted God much more.

After Al's Death (AAD)

this area became a struggle.

I thought I had conquered it.

I thought..........

 

There have been a lot of changes since BAD.

And, there have been a lot of changes AAD.

But this past 18 months ~

OY VEY!!!

By the time sabbatical week came

I was in the above state.

It wasn't fun! 

 

But God!

He wasted no time ~

He never does!

The first encounter that I would like to share

happened early on the first morning after my arrival.

I had spent some time in the water,

some time walking on the beach

and had set down to journal my experience:

 

The water is warm and calm this morning.

I walked out quite a way 

and rode the gentle waves back in several times. 

This water is such a reflection of You!

Sometimes warm and soft,

gently carrying me forward with no real effort on my part.

Other times wild and playful,

still others cold and foreboding

or angrily destroying all in its path.

Always powerful,

never controlled by man! 

 

It dawned on me that control was what it was all about!

 

I had wholly trusted God

when my plan and His aligned.

I had learned years earlier,

during what I then thought would be

the worst time of my life,

that trusting Him was the only way

to joy and peace.

 

But when my Al got cancer,

something changed.

Al died

and everything changed.

And God and I were off on a journey

of spiritual growth and discovery and healing

such as I had never experienced!

 

Along the way,

God brought me my Lanny Love.

Joy of joys!

Miracle of miracles!

Love and happiness came back to my life!

I never thought they would!

After the deepest devastation and loss and grief I had never known,

things were clicking along very nicely!

 

Then my Lanny Love got sick,

and fear and worry began to sneak back in.

About the time I began to relax just a little,

Covid became a life-threatening danger to him.

What was legitimate concern

and what was political maneuvering

became muddled.

The time came to put the home I love on the market,

and I had/have to trust that

He controls its sale.

When it was time to trust

that He had another home for us ~

even if He arranged it to be ready

before we thought the timing was right ~

I worried, panicked.

 

As all those things happened,

fear and doubt reached deeper and deeper into my soul!

I wanted my ordered, happy little world

where I served my husband,

cared for my home,

and worshipped and trusted the God

who gave it all far above and beyond

my fondest hopes, dreams, and prayers.

I wanted my easy life

where the shadows I carry with me

were comfortably in the background most of the time

and the sun shone brightly upon a splendid future.

 

I didn't think it.

I certainly didn't say it.

But buried down in there,

deep in the recesses of my heart,

there it was.

I needed control back...

...because God was messing things up

and I needed to fix it.

 

Of all the changes of widowhood,

this change above all things,

grieves me.

And I thought it grieved God,

but, I think not in the way I thought.

I think He knows me so well,

and loves me so much,

that He uses these times

to root out those things

that I have buried,

kept in places secret even from myself,

and to draw me even closer to Him!

And that pleases Him very much!!!

I am willing, my Daddy God,

my Father Creator,

my Purifier, Refiner!

Keep on growing me!

More to come...

Sabbatical - Prelude

The opportunity presented itself for me to take a sabbatical this past week.

So I did.

Let me define what I mean by sabbatical.

I am talking about a time dedicated to seeking God,

hearing his voice,

asking Him to teach and refine me in specific ways ~

and in ways I didn't realize I needed to be taught and refined.

It means spending time in His Word,

time sitting quietly,

time looking for Him and His lessons

in the ordinary happenings around me,

time journaling what I discovered about Him ~

and about myself.

It means rest from the stresses and work of ministry,

from worry about health or home or anything else.

 

Just God and me!

 

As those of you who followed my Caring Bridge blog

and, to some degree, the early days of this blog,

you will know that I spent a lot of time running away from home

in the early days of my widowhood.

While those were definitely times of alone time with God,

crying out to Him,

they were not sabbatical times,

they were survival times.

While I certainly learned during those times,

certainly experienced refinement,

certainly grew,

this was different.

This was not a time of

"Oh my goodness, I have to get out of here!"

running from loneliness and grief,

going wherever my car took me,

this was choosing a place where I knew God could most easily speak to me,

where I would most clearly see and hear Him,

with the intent of spiritual growth and refinement and rest.

It was needed!

And it was highly beneficial!

 

I chose the beach.

I drove 12 hours to get there,

12 hours to get home,

I spent two days walking and talking only with God.

 

Why the beach?

It's not the beauty, though certainly it is beautiful!

It's the feeling.

It's wild and serene at the same time.

I can feel the personality of God there.

The silky soft purity and warmth of the sand 

(His absolute love and acceptance of us,

the peace and joy and contentment He brings),

the power of the waves that are both unchanging and in constant movement 

(the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow,

dependable, yet everywhere and flexible

as He moves in the lives of His imperfect children),

the sea air that nourishes my parched skin, hair, eyes, lungs

(the Living Water that quenches our parched spirits).

When I sit or walk on the beaches, 

a quietness envelopes me.

The frenzied thoughts and constant movement that is Gina calms. 

As I play in the waves, 

exuberant joy washes away the cares of life 

and for those moments, 

I revel in the gifts He has given me 

without the caveats of

loss and grief, 

stress, 

"I need to be..." or "I should...", 

worry, 

all the negative things sin ushered into our lives. 

It's how it feels....

 

So, over the next little while,

I will be posting about some of God's work in me,

my time of sabbatical.

I pray He will use what He taught me

to move in other's lives as well.

 

 

 

September 3

Today is a hard day in our home.

Each year it is hard.

Each year it is different,

the emotions and character surrounding the day flux

but the constant is that it is 

 

Today it is eight years.

Eight long years.

Eight incredibly short years.

Eight years.

I am his best friend.

His lover.

His partner in life.

But I am not his first.

And today, I am not the one for whom he longs.

I totally get it!!!

 

Today, he remembers.

Today, he smiles...

...and cries.

Today, I can be supportive,

but I cannot fix it.

No matter how much I want to.

 

Today is hard.

 

Now God's presence is with [him],

and He will live with [him],

and [he] will be [His child].

 [And there will come a day...]

He will wipe away every tear from [his] eyes,

and there will be no more death, sadness, crying, or pain,

because the old ways are gone. 

 

~~ Revelation 21:3-4

Speaking in parables and other marriage busters

Here's how it happened.

She said he stopped paying attention to her.

She'd kept pretty fit,

but she was nearing "Medicare"

and things were no longer "perky",

the cute little baby bump that never quite went away

started to sag.

She developed laugh lines.

And a bit of a neck waddle.

She didn't feel pretty and sexy anymore.

And he stopped saying she was.

Sex stopped being fun and became a quick, infrequent event.

Her attempts at couch foreplay got the response,

"I'm trying to watch this..."

She felt rejected

so she stopped trying and accepted that

after more than 40 years of marriage...

 

Then it stopped being irritating.

You know, when men in the store stared,

or commented that she was pretty,

or tried to get a date.

She started enjoying it.

She told him about it most every time it happened

so he would know she was still attractive to other men

and maybe be a little jealous.

He wasn't.

(But he probably did know she was attractive to other men

because, you know, he isn't blind,

and she's still pretty to him too!)

And one day

when one of those men in the store 

asked her if she'd like a cup of coffee,

she thought "Why not!"

And now she is getting a divorce

and marrying a man who picked her up in a grocery store.

And it's all his fault.

 

I'd like to say I understand,

but I don't!

It just infuriates me!

You see, I will most likely never have the privilege of 

celebrating a 40th wedding anniversary

with my beloved.

We had been married just six weeks shy of our 37th

when my Al died.

We were at an age by the time we met and married

that makes it highly unlikely that my Lanny Love and I

will reach that milestone.

And it makes me mad that she is throwing away

more than 40 years of love and marriage and commitment

to start over again with a man who cheated with her.

(you ladies DO realize that a man who will cheat with you

will cheat on you, right?) 

So I asked her.

 

Did you tell him you felt like he didn't find you attractive,

that you weren't feeling loved anymore?

 

Well I shouldn't have to tell him to find me attractive,             

to love me!              

 

Maybe you shouldn't,

but did you?

 

Well I didn't come right out and say that, no,              

but I told him in a lot of ways.              

And I told him other men flirted with me              

and found me attractive.              

And he didn't even care!              

 

Oh! My goodness!!!

Why do we do that???

One of the things I want to ask Jesus when I get to Heaven is this:

 

Why did you teach in parables?

Why didn't you just tell us what we need to know?

You know we're thick headed and slow, right?

 

And yet we, especially women,

and in particular to our husbands,

we do it all! the! time!

We talk to them in parables

and expect them to figure it out.

 

You know they don't think like us, right?

You know they just say what they mean and move on, right?

You know they expect you to do the same, right?

 

But we don't.

We hint.

We tell a story about "a friend".

We "what if".

We insist they should already know and get angrier by the minute.

But we don't just say,

 

HEY! Put down the phone, turn off the T.V. and pay attention to me!

I'm feeling neglected, unattractive to you, and unloved!

 

They probably won't understand why you feel neglected.

They certainly won't understand why in the world you feel unattractive to them

or why you would think they don't love you.

But they'll appreciate that you didn't make them try to figure it out

because somewhere, they vaguely know you're upset about something,

however, since you tell them "nothing" when they ask,

they'll assume it's something at work, or the kids, or that time of month,

but they won't figure it out.

They aren't emotionally built to figure it out.

Just tell them!

And, by the way,

when you're telling them to meet your needs,

ask yourself if you are meeting theirs.

 

When is the last time you told him he still makes your tummy flutter?

When is the last time you told him how much you 

appreciate 

his going to work every day?

(I know, most of you go to work too,

and doesn't it feel nice to be told that it's appreciated?)

When did you last thank him for mowing the yard?

Or how you 

respect 

him for protecting your family by locking up at night?

When did you last

admire

his physique or strength or "prowess"?

Or for...the myriad of things that men do that is their way of saying

 

I love you very much!!!

 

When did you last tell him how much you 

appreciate 

his sense of responsibility,

that he is a man of honor,

that he makes you proud to be his wife?

When did you last tell him how much you 

admire 

his abilities, his gifts and talents?

When did you last say

"I respect you so much!"

You know how much you need to be loved and desired?

Well that's how much he needs to be respected, admired, and appreciated!

 

I learned some stuff through widowhood.

First is that nothing is worth losing my mate!

Not by choice!

Either his or mine!

Another is that very little is really worth fighting over

but that marriage is very worth fighting for!

So for the love of Pete,

stop talking in parables!

We aren't Jesus, 

we aren't good at telling them in such a way they are ever understood.

And our husbands will never get them and will, in fact,

be shocked when you finally lose it and scream at him

what you should have simply told him in the first place!

Marriage is precious!

Take care of yours!

Everyday miracles happen every day

 

Don't you love little miracles?

Okay, miracles

for no miracle is little.

 

I experienced a “miracle” recently.

It was personal and in the grand scheme of things

pretty insignificant.

Except to me.

And isn't that always the way?

 

I mean, let's be honest here,

the lame man walking mattered mostly to him.

The blind man seeing mattered mostly to him.

I realize that all miracles ripple and touch others,

but they really and truly matter only to those directly affected.

Except Jesus’ resurrection,

that matters to everyone!

 

Recently, I experienced a “miracle.”

Now, some will roll their eyes and say

“That wasn’t a miracle, it was a mistake.”

But I know my God!

And more to the point,

 

my God knows me!

 

So when I mistook Isaiah for Psalms one morning,

and the chapter in Isaiah was exactly what I needed,

and I had read and marked several sections,

marveling at the appropriate timing of my daily Psalm reading schedule,

before realizing I had turned to Isaiah not Psalms,

well, I knew my God was at work in my life.

Again!

 

Everyday miracles happen every day!!!

We just have to notice them!

 

Thank You, Daddy God!

 

Isaiah 51 NCV

 

…The LORD says, “I am the one who comforts you.

So why should you be afraid of people, who die?

Why should you fear people who die like the grass”

Have you forgotten the LORD who made you,

who stretched out the skies and made the earth?

Why are you always afraid

of those angry people who trouble you

and who want to destroy?...

…I am the LORD your God,

who stirs the sea and makes the waves roar.

My name is the LORD All-Powerful.

I will give you the words I want you to say.

I will cover you with my hands and protect you.

 

Verses 12-13,15-16

(Emphasis added)