tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88897777643359572962024-03-13T04:02:56.615-07:00My Life As A MisfitGail Wahlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05776535517966926135noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889777764335957296.post-75773215622255317982014-06-03T11:59:00.000-07:002014-06-04T05:51:21.352-07:00Responding to Life<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-brJ7lP2uFxY/U44WcglqqTI/AAAAAAAAAzc/puEQdGHuLSA/s1600/window.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-brJ7lP2uFxY/U44WcglqqTI/AAAAAAAAAzc/puEQdGHuLSA/s1600/window.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I sit here in my little corner of the world, taking it all in. The windows are open and a gentle breeze is circulating from one open window to the next, curtains swaying in rhythm. The hum of the lawnmower lulls me as I stop my tasks and I become aware of this moment.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My tasks have dominated me this morning as I have made one decision after another on how to respond to all that is going on around me. Because of my job, this morning I have had to make decisions of whether a young man can come into our transitional home, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">or not. I've had to respond to accusations from a hurting youth as they fight responsibility and accountability. I've had to pray about how to respond to a hurting family member and discern how I can respond with support. I've had to evaluate my own actions and discern how they have impacted others. I've also had to determine how I will let the response of others impact my life. All of life is a response; and my response matters. </span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TV3ogjZU0-c/U44X2gzDHPI/AAAAAAAAAzo/WTJHqOdV20E/s1600/prison+bars.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TV3ogjZU0-c/U44X2gzDHPI/AAAAAAAAAzo/WTJHqOdV20E/s1600/prison+bars.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have to respond to victimization on a daily basis. I deal with victims and I deal with victims that have become victimizers. Oh, how I wish I could release them from the lifestyle of victimization. It is a life of imprisonment; a life of living behind steel bars placed there by their responses. One bar after another, creating a life of isolation. This is not the life God intended for us. He created us in his own image and that image is not one of a victim:</span><br />
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<em><strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created him; </span></strong></em></div>
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<em><strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">male and female He created them.<span class="p"></span>. </span></strong></em></div>
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<em><strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Genesis 1:27</span></strong></em></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The scriptures are filled with his image; wisdom, holiness, sovereignty, faithfulness, love, graciousness, mercy, justice, kindness, forgiveness.....in none of this imagery do I see "victim".</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I discern my response to life I have realized I exercise a thought process when responding. I look at a situation and process some of the following questions:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Did I do something to cause this negative situation? If so, what do I need to do to make it better?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is not responding a better solution?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Did they really mean to hurt me or am I being oversensitive?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is there something bigger going on here than what I am seeing? Some deeper pain?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am a flawed individual, I carry sin. So unfortunately, I do not always choose to respond with a self-less intent. But I do <em>purpose</em> to take myself through this questioning to make sure I am looking at the situation with as much discernment as possible. But sometimes "ME" takes the front seat instead of "OTHERS"; "ME" becomes the victim and the reigning queen. I hate when that happens. It just creates more pain. I am not into pain for myself or others so I purpose towards a response that brings good.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This thought process, when responding to life, is not something my parents actually sat me down to teach, they simply modeled it throughout the years. I am so very grateful for the gentle modeling I have received and pray that I am carrying on that legacy to my own children.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I remember a time in my childhood when my Dad's mom was not a fan of my mother. My parents had done the unforgivable and had done what the scriptures said, "Leave and cleave to one another"...not your mamma. I loved my Grandma and admired how profoundly she adored her son. She was like many mothers who love deeply and then have a hard time letting that love move forward.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It took a while for Grandma to warm up to my mom, even into our childhood. But my mom did what she does best, she loved that little granny into a love relationship with her. She showed kindness when it wasn't warranted, she showed love when rebuffed. She showed the image of Christ to her mother-in-law and in time, Grandma found love in her heart for the woman who had stolen her son. And on that day when Grandma took her final breath, my mother laid her head on Grandma's chest and grieved the loss as much as anyone else.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My sisters and I talk about mom's genuine love and THAT is what sticks in our minds. We do not have images of her turning her back in anger at her mother-in-law or creating a rift because she was rebuffed. She understood where Grandma's fear and pain were coming from and did all she could to reassure her that there was enough love to go around. My mom realized, her response mattered.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I cannot tell you how blessed I feel to have parents that modeled the image of God and not the image of man. They modeled forgiveness and grace instead of bitterness and keeping record of wrongs. They passed on an amazing legacy of how to respond to life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My son and I were talking the other day about the loss of his brother. His response blew me away. He said, "Mom, there are so many worse things in life than losing my brother!" At first I was taken aback but as we talked I understood what he was saying. Yes, losing Ryan was horrible in the moment, and we will miss him forever, but in the big scheme of life there are people going through much worse things. He pointed this out again the next day when I was sharing about seeing a homeless woman and a baby in a stroller hanging out at the park and how my heart hurt for that baby. Luke closed our original conversation by saying, "Besides Mom, I'm going to see Ryan again in heaven so it isn't like I'm never going to see him again!"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Response and perspective, it really does matter.</span></div>
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Gail Wahlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05776535517966926135noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889777764335957296.post-60379682380484465732014-05-22T14:46:00.001-07:002014-05-22T14:47:13.886-07:00Death has no sting.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-96Fixt9LK7Y/U35dw6CCSGI/AAAAAAAAAyQ/XfKfKchOSG4/s1600/264116_2268932161637_6598812_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-96Fixt9LK7Y/U35dw6CCSGI/AAAAAAAAAyQ/XfKfKchOSG4/s1600/264116_2268932161637_6598812_n.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a>Death stinks. It comes with inevitable pain for the loss of those we love. No one would choose that kind of pain. I have to ask myself, now that I've experienced death and pain in such an intimate way, am I afraid of death? Does death chase me around each corner? Do I run from it at all costs?<br />
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Parenting is one of the most nerve wracking jobs there is. On the day that our children are placed into our arms most parents move into protector mode. At all costs, we try and prevent pain and danger from entering our children's lives. Consequently, the role of "Protector" can place us in a position of constant fear and worry.<br />
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I learned early on that if I was going to enjoy parenting my two boys I was going to have to give up some of that fear and worry that came with parenting them. As soon as they were old enough they were jumping off rocks, climbing mountains, zooming down ski hills and riding ridiculous mountain bike trails; they were part of their father after all. So it has been a slow release of fear and control as I raised my boys.<br />
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Then Amanda came into our home at 16 1/2 and she came in with foundations already set; there was very little control I could claim.<br />
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Then Ryan died falling 100 feet in a climbing accident and I realized how little control I had over anything. There was nothing I could have done to have prevented that event from happening. I guess I could have never allowed Ryan to take up climbing while he lived under my roof, but he would have found some other way to express his need for adventure. Limiting him would have been thwarting the person he was meant to be. I did not want to be the kind of parent that shaped my kid's lives based on my own needs; "I don't want to live in fear so you, my child, will live safely and steer away from anything I deem dangerous." <br />
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Climbing is dangerous, much like many other activities in life. I was chatting with a friend and telling her that Luke just recently took up climbing again and that Amanda is a climber and Tom has even gotten back into it. She looked at me with her big brown eyes with fear and astonishment and I knew what that look said. "Your son died in a climbing accident and you are letting the rest of your family climb?" I responded, "Yes, it honestly doesn't bother me at all. <em><strong>Climbing is not what killed Ryan</strong></em>. God just simply said, "It is time." It wouldn't have mattered what he was doing when it was his time. So I have no fear of climbing." My friend replied that of course that was how I felt, she knew I trusted God that completely.<br />
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This conversation has been mulling in my head since then. I am so grateful that I can walk with so little fear and such a great deal of peace because I trust my Creator. I trust what I read in his Word to me:<br />
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<strong><em>"To everything there is a season, <span class="text Eccl-3-1">A time for every purpose under heaven:</span></em></strong></div>
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<strong><em><span class="text Eccl-3-2" id="en-NKJV-17362">A time to be born, </span><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Eccl-3-2">And a time to die;" Ecclesiastes 3:1-2</span></span></em></strong></div>
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<strong><em>"Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? </em></strong></div>
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<strong><em>And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father." Matthew 10:29</em></strong></div>
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<strong><em>"Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them." Psalm 139:16</em></strong></div>
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No, climbing did not take Ryan's life. The days that were formed for him were over. God could do more with his death now than he could his life. Of this I am very certain. </div>
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Trusting the perspective that our days are numbered and that God knows our coming and our going allows me to walk in peace as I and those around me continue to walk out our lives. It takes away that constant fear and need to control my environment. Now that doesn't mean I'm not careful and encourage wisdom and discernment and wise counsel, but it does mean I trust God with the outcomes and the big picture.</div>
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I'm no theologian and I probably can't give a solid answer to some of the harder questions like suicide and murder. My heart goes out to those who have had to deal with loss in those situations. I recognize how different that kind of loss is. But ultimately I think <strong>it still comes down to whether we believe God's Word or not</strong>. Do we trust it even when what we see in front of us doesn't make sense and is excruciating? I chose to step into that kind of trust.</div>
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My journey is not painless because I have made a choice of trust. I still have those moments of extreme loss and sorrow. Moments where my heart just simply hurts. But in that pain I have also experienced a depth of joy that has come from trusting my Savior and seeing the good that has come from the pain. Lives have been altered, including mine. I could write a book on all the growth that I have seen in people's lives because of my son's death.</div>
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What if I hadn't allowed Ryan to climb? What if I hadn't allowed him to become all that he was meant to be because of my own fears and need for control? <strong>I have to wonder if we would be experiencing the same results if I had let my fear rule. </strong>Would Ryan's life and death have had the same impact if he hadn't been allowed to live life with a big "L"?</div>
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No, I'm not afraid of death. It does not stalk me at every corner. I know where I'm going. I trust God completely with my life and the lives of those around me. I pray that my life, and some day my death, simply benefit the Kingdom. </div>
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Yes, sorrow comes with the sting of pain, and I cannot avoid it, but the threat of death holds no sting when I entrust my past, present and future to the one who formed me and holds my days in His hands.</div>
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<strong>"The steps of a good man are ordered by the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>: and he delighteth in his way". Psalm 37:23</strong><br />
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Gail Wahlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05776535517966926135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889777764335957296.post-38939130197063297842014-04-19T07:26:00.000-07:002014-04-19T08:26:19.365-07:00The Essence of Heaven<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D6a4UkT2wXg/U1KDruNJkXI/AAAAAAAAAxI/GWO0TL8gbnI/s1600/heaven+on+earth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D6a4UkT2wXg/U1KDruNJkXI/AAAAAAAAAxI/GWO0TL8gbnI/s1600/heaven+on+earth.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"That was a bit of Heaven." "That was Heaven on earth." Have you heard these phrases before? I have, and they are usually associated with something beautiful, delightful and enjoyable; something that pleased us. I suppose that is because of what we read in <strong>Revelations 21:4 </strong> <strong>"He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”<span class="p"></span></strong> That sounds so peaceful and beautiful doesn't it?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Perhaps we are short sited in this perspective. When I think of Heaven I think of being in the presence of my Savior continually; the constant presence of the one who formed me, knew me and walked beside me on my journey called "life". Ahhh, Heaven. And yet, I think I've been experiencing part of the beauty of Heaven while I've been on my journey down here on earth as well. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As I have been learning to abide in Him and lay both the good and the bad at his feet, I have experienced a deep love and covering. This allows me to be in the midst of trials and sorrow and still experience his peace and beauty as if I were in the midst of something wonderful. I haven't always felt this way. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">For most of my years I held Heaven off as a destination I would get to when my time on earth was finished. I knew that I believed in him and would obtain that eternal presence with him when my time came. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong>John 3:16 "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life</strong>." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I knew I would see the kingdom of God one day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong>John 3:3 "Jesus answered him, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God.”</strong> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But I really didn't spend a lot of time thinking about it. Heaven was a destination I felt confident about because of my choice to receive Christ as my Savior but wasn't a part of my every day life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And then Ryan died and Heaven reached down and touched my soul. I felt linked to it in a very personal way. Others I knew had died and I imagined them in heaven, but this was my son, someone who was formed in my womb was now experiencing Heaven. The things we had taught him to hope for by choosing Jesus Christ to be part of his life were his reality. His time had come. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This event would be the beginning of my understanding of what it would mean to keep my eyes lifted up to the heavens and in doing so, experience the essence of heaven while still here on earth. The depth of my faith and trust in God through this event is what lead me to this place; much like Abraham.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In Genesis 22 God asks Abraham to take his son, his only son, to the mountains and sacrifice him as a burnt offering. YIKES! What kind of a God does that? But read on. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Abraham gets up early the next morning and loads up his donkey with all that is needed for the event and then three days later packs up his son and tells people they are leaving to worship and then they would be back. WOW! What trust in the Lord. He was immediately obedient and in that obedience trusted God for the outcome.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We then read further that Abraham went through all the actions of being willing to sacrifice his son, his only son, and then just as he was raising his hand with a knife God called down, "Abraham! Abraham!" and Abraham says, "Here I am!" I can imagine Abraham screamed that with tearful eyes of anticipation. And God said, "Abraham, do not lay a hand on that boy. Now I know you fear God because you have not withheld from me your son, your only son." And Abraham looked up and saw a ram caught up in the thicket. He went over and took the lamb and sacrificed it in place of his son.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And the Lord said, "...<strong>because you have done this and have not withheld your son, your only son, I promise I will bless you with everything I have -- bless and bless and bless!</strong> God can't and doesn't break his word. He is sinless. His word and promises are unchangeable. Abraham received everything God promised him.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As I read this account I can't help but think how I didn't have to choose Ryan's death, I didn't get that option. My option became whether I would put my son's death on the alter and trust God with it. Or, would I become bitter and angry and tell God he had to be wrong, this couldn't be right?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Every day we have opportunity to put things on the alter; marriages, relationships, illnesses, miscarriages, jobs, situations, catastrophic events, etc. How often do we hold those things in our hands and refuse to put them on the alter because we think we must know better than God. He couldn't possibly know what he is doing in this regard, not if it means we experience pain and suffering!?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm going to argue that we can put anything and everything on that alter and trust him with the outcome. We don't need to argue and cajole and manipulate and stomp our feet in anger. We can lay it there and "rest". As we learn to do this and trust God for the outcome we too, like Abraham, can receive that peace, peace and more peace and experience that essence of Heaven that only God can provide.</span><br />
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<span class="text Heb-6-18-Heb-6-20" id="en-MSG-12716" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have been learning to do this; laying it all on the alter. When I have chosen to do this I have found that piece of Heaven in my every day life. I have experienced Heaven on earth, that peace of having the constant presence of my Savior right by my side.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I will continue to purpose to do this until that time when I will enter the gates of Heaven and experience no more tears or death or mourning or crying or pain and the former things will have passed away. I will see my son and all those who have gone before me and walk beside my Savior.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm reminded of a chorus we used to sing as kids.</span><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Heaven is a wonderful place. </span></strong></div>
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<strong><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Filled with glory and grace. </span></strong></div>
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<strong><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I want to see my Savior's face. </span></strong></div>
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<strong><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Heaven is a wonderful place. </span></strong></div>
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<strong><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">(I want to go there).</span></strong></div>
Gail Wahlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05776535517966926135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889777764335957296.post-61490246088452958412014-04-11T05:23:00.000-07:002014-04-11T05:31:26.318-07:00Behind closed doors<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZgpGO4ey7Tw/U0cNMAQazeI/AAAAAAAAAwI/1Zo9kmwpXAY/s1600/Front+Door.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZgpGO4ey7Tw/U0cNMAQazeI/AAAAAAAAAwI/1Zo9kmwpXAY/s1600/Front+Door.jpg" height="294" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Spring is here and my neighbors and I are finding ourselves outdoors more. The other day I was washing my car and one of my neighbors, whom I have only waved to throughout the winter months, stopped by and we had an opportunity to catch up. As we caught each other up on our lives we both realized how much goes on behind closed doors that we can be so oblivious to.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We see a pretty house, we see pretty people walking in and out of the house with pretty smiles, and we assume all is o.k. I wonder if we went around our neighborhood and knocked on the doors and said, "Hey, I'm just wondering, do you guys have struggles too?" I'm pretty sure we would get an earful of struggles that even the most perfect looking families deal with on a daily basis; yet we all pretend life is beautiful and perfect.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BFO3qzmj34Y/U0cQXxyt_-I/AAAAAAAAAwU/G5tLF_r7AfQ/s1600/Memorial+Garden.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BFO3qzmj34Y/U0cQXxyt_-I/AAAAAAAAAwU/G5tLF_r7AfQ/s1600/Memorial+Garden.jpg" height="211" width="320" /></span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I actually count myself blessed that we decided to put a memorial garden for Ryan in our front yard. I've had neighbors say, "When I walk passed I see your cross and I'm reminded to pray for your family." Isn't that just lovely? They know that specific struggle and they choose to carry our burden to the Lord for us.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My family is a walking example of how prayers have mounted up and impacted our lives. This got me to thinking.....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What if we all had a cross in our front yard that displayed our struggles? I'm sure instantly, many are thinking, "NO WAY! I could never expose myself that way."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But think about it. How wonderful would it be to have people walk passed our homes and know just exactly how to lift us up to the Lord. The sense of connectedness would be amazing as we walked passed one another's homes and saw that others carry burdens too, perhaps even our same burden; we are not alone. It would be amazing to be aware that each one of us is on the same journey of working through our struggles and getting to that other side to find joy. And, it would be transforming to know how to pray for one another. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I know, I live in a dream world. But I wonder, what would be on your cross?</span><br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0zR3jWaTOvM/U0cNJV1P86I/AAAAAAAAAwA/qO94y3sHjuo/s1600/Behind+Closed+Doors.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0zR3jWaTOvM/U0cNJV1P86I/AAAAAAAAAwA/qO94y3sHjuo/s1600/Behind+Closed+Doors.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We live such isolated lives. We think we are being strong by keeping our burdens to ourselves and not bothering anyone with them. Well I think that is a bunch of hooey!! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There is beauty in sharing each other's burdens. The burden becomes lighter as we allow others to carry a piece of it with us. As we bring the burden into the light the grip of darkness is removed and light has the ability to shine into it, producing beauty from ashes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I am continually reminded how much we need each other. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong><em>I Corinthians 12:7</em></strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong><br /></strong></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong><em>A spiritual gift is given to each of us so we can help each other</em></strong>.</span><span class="text_exposed_show"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If God thought we could make it on our own he would have given each of us all gifts necessary to exist on our own; but that is not what he did. He gave each of us our own gifts, designing us to be in fellowship with one another, ministering to each other with what is needed. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">When we remain isolated, we rob others of our gifts and of the opportunity for others to minister to us.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I'm going to take some action on this thought process. I care about my neighbors and believe my family moved to this neighborhood for a reason; it wasn't a coincidence. None of my life is a coincidence.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I'm going to talk with a couple other neighbors, whom I know have a heart for our neighbors as well, and see if we can't host a monthly potluck. This is not so that we can get up in everyone's business, but so that our neighbors know that they are not alone behind their closed doors. There are people who care deeply about them and want to share the joys and the sorrows, the good and the bad.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">The Wahl door will remain opened.</span><br />
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<!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://images-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com/gadgets/proxy?url=http%3A%2F%2F3.bp.blogspot.com%2F-0zR3jWaTOvM%2FU0cNJV1P86I%2FAAAAAAAAAwA%2FqO94y3sHjuo%2Fs1600%2FBehind%2BClosed%2BDoors.jpg&container=blogger&gadget=a&rewriteMime=image%2F*" with "https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0zR3jWaTOvM/U0cNJV1P86I/AAAAAAAAAwA/qO94y3sHjuo/s1600/Behind+Closed+Doors.jpg" -->Gail Wahlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05776535517966926135noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889777764335957296.post-26617028411048590122014-04-06T07:20:00.000-07:002014-04-06T18:20:44.368-07:00The trajectory of my lifeApril 7, 2012. Two years...how can that be? I remember so vividly those first moments, hours, days filled with pain, sorrow, shock and anguish. The impact of that day becomes a faded memory in the minds of most others but in my mind, the mother's mind, I can vividly recall those moments in an instant. My mind does not retain a lot of things, but it remembers those moments that changed the trajectory of my life forever.<br />
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But wait; did those moments really change the trajectory of my life? Perhaps they changed where I thought I was headed but I do not believe they changed where God intended.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RE2rTC1ERvY/Uz3KTCzLZSI/AAAAAAAAAvI/2QIZV1WL198/s1600/Ryan+hiking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RE2rTC1ERvY/Uz3KTCzLZSI/AAAAAAAAAvI/2QIZV1WL198/s1600/Ryan+hiking.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a>I have spent the last two years watching, waiting and listening for ways that my sorrow could be worth the pain. I have been asking God to show me how He was going to make good from what appeared to be the darkest moments of my life; the death of my 20 year old son Ryan.<br />
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God has been found faithful; he has been answering me one step at a time.<br />
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<strong>The LORD makes firm the steps of the one who delights in him; Psalm 37:23<span class="p"></span></strong><br />
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The last two years have been far from easy; they have been filled with tears, and anguish and struggle. It still can seem like a dream, like it didn't happen and he's just gone on a trip. But then I feel that weight in my heart and I know it is true; he'll never walk through that front door again with that twinkle in his eyes and a skip in his step thinking up some adventure. But honestly, the pain isn't as constant as it used to be. <br />
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Life is a forward motion and I have been pulled along with it, leaving the deepest parts of my pain behind as I take each new step. In that forward motion, as I offer my pain to God, it has become less of an albatross and more of a message of hope. The hope that, <span style="color: black;"><strong>God is in my moments</strong></span>.<br />
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<strong>The mind of man plans his way, But the LORD directs his steps. Proverbs 16:9</strong><br />
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I praise God for that every day.<br />
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I have not tried to rush through the grief, but rather, experience it, step through it and not get stuck. I have purposed to stay on God's trajectory and not my own. On God's trajectory I have experienced more pain than I would have chosen, but it has brought a depth and dependence on him that I couldn't have, wouldn't have, orchestrated on my own. I do not consider myself weak because I put my life in the hands of someone else. I'm stronger, so much stronger in my dependence. I am grateful for that dependence because it brings with it a peace that surpasses all understanding. Peace is not something we witness often, so for this, I am very grateful.<br />
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Ryan's life was not interrupted, but rather completed. He fulfilled his purpose on this earth, and yet, there is still so much of him left behind for me to continue to cherish and learn from. I will never tire of talking about my son and all that his life and death taught me and consequently, all that God has done in my life. I believe that is part of my trajectory. Even though gone in body, there is a part of him that lives on in me.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jjihtGsGb4U/U0Fk9QUeFnI/AAAAAAAAAvs/yNf1cRmI3aM/s1600/Ryan's+Memorial+2014+057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jjihtGsGb4U/U0Fk9QUeFnI/AAAAAAAAAvs/yNf1cRmI3aM/s1600/Ryan's+Memorial+2014+057.JPG" height="200" width="198" /></a><br />
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So to Ryan, as I approach the 2nd anniversary of your death, I say, "Thank you! Thank you for living life so boldly. You lived it fully to the end and I purpose to do the same. I would choose to be your mother again, in a heartbeat, even with the pain. As of today, God's trajectory is still in motion in my life. You are terribly missed, loved to the heavens and back, and I will see you soon, but not yet! My trajectory is not complete."<br />
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<br />Gail Wahlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05776535517966926135noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889777764335957296.post-57007914616863253602013-12-27T06:50:00.000-08:002013-12-27T07:17:15.270-08:00Opening the Gift<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This Christmas we decided to stay home in Colorado and not make our traditional 17 hour drive to Wisconsin to visit our families. There were a number of reasons why we made that decision but the closer we got to Christmas the less important those reasons were and the more important it seemed to get our butts in the car and get near our family. On Christmas Eve at 10 p.m. we squeezed ourselves in the car and headed out. Yes, we have been known to be a spontaneous family.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The long drive gave me a lot of time to think. I got the driving time from 2:30 a.m. to 5 a.m. and the thing that kept me awake was thinking about the Gift that has meant the most to me this Christmas Season; the gift of God's Son.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oBODiMO9LnQ/Ur2J85OWiUI/AAAAAAAAAoE/-AZ2LBEG7VY/s1600/the+gift.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oBODiMO9LnQ/Ur2J85OWiUI/AAAAAAAAAoE/-AZ2LBEG7VY/s1600/the+gift.png" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This year, more than any other year, I have realized how important that Gift has become to me on a daily basis. It isn't just a Christmas Gift to me; it is a moment by moment Gift that I must choose to open and receive. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">All those years ago when that Babe was born it was God saying, "Gail will need the gift of my Son. She will need this active relationship in her life. She will need to open this gift. Through my Son and through my Spirit I will be her Helper." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I chose to open that Gift when I was 7 and I have been choosing to keep that gift open since then. It is an everlasting gift. To be honest though, there have been times when I only looked at that Gift on Sundays. There have been times when I was more excited about that Gift than other times. But in the last 18 months I have chosen to keep that gift opened right next to me. I look at it throughout my day, and doing this has changed my life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One evening, last week, I was having a particularly tough evening. I was feeling alone, annoyed, mad, sad, and a whole lot of other descriptors. I went up to my bed early and just simply started to cry; that hard kind of cry that comes from deep within. I hadn't cried like that in a long time but it was something I just couldn't control. I take Tylenol PM now and again because I've always had a hard time sleeping. I decided to take one that evening because I just wanted to sleep my hurts away. I looked at that bottle and thought, "Boy would it be easy to take this whole thing and REALLY sleep my hurts away." I also remembered an earlier time when I traveled over the bluffs in Wisconsin that Ryan had travelled over often when he spent a couple summers there. I remember thinking how easy it would be to just veer off the road and end it all. But these were fleeting thoughts I knew I would never follow through with. They were just honest thoughts that went through my head. I knew that I would never bring more hurt on my family with selfish acts like these. And, I would never want to ruin the testimony that God has given me. But in those moments I understood how easy it would be for those who had no hope; for those who never opened the Gift.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On that night when I looked differently at that bottle of Tylenol PM it was God's Gift to me that kept that bottle tightly capped and in its' proper place on my bedside table. It was God's whisper to me that said, "My Grace is sufficient for you in this moment Gail, there will be Joy in the morning." Because I have been learning to truly trust God even when I'm not feeling it, I closed my eyes and trusted Him with my sleep.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The next day had some really tough moments to it but I purposed to give God the whole terrible day and keep his Gift right next to me, opened and in full view. I sought His Glory throughout the day and found it. By the end of the day my heart had found Joy again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He doesn't promise me that I will walk in a fairytale type life, but He does promise me that He will walk through it with me and that I will see His Glory in it if I seek to find it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you." Mathew 7:7<br /><br /> </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As I step into 2014 and wonder at what will come, I know that as long as I have that Gift with me and keep it opened and in full view, I will find God's Glory and there will be beauty ahead.</span><br />
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<br />Gail Wahlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05776535517966926135noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889777764335957296.post-72176096884856705462013-12-08T14:03:00.001-08:002013-12-08T15:23:19.734-08:00Turning My "Damns" Into Praise<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I've never been a cursing person. It has never felt natural or right to have a curse word form on my lips. But lately, the word "damn" has come to my mind quite often. I'm not here to debate whether that is write or wrong, and pray I don't offend those who say it is and don't encourage those who say it isn't. Prior to my grief experience I probably would have been one more on the side of judgment, but now, it is just simply about being real. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The day we put up our huge Christmas tree and thought we were going to have to take all the lights off and start over again I said to Tom and Luke, "Right about now I'm thinking the word damn!" They both looked at me like I was from Mars because we just don't curse in our home. Luke said, "What did you just say?" I told him and he just shook his head and snickered. I shared that thought with him because I want him to know that it is o.k. to be frustrated, mad, sad, angry....but the important part is what we do with those feelings. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This morning I hurriedly sat down in church and after the first couple songs we began singing the song "Restless". BAM! My mind went to a Sunday not too long before Ryan died where we were sitting in the back of the church and were singing a song about being restless (I don't remember if it was the same song) and Ryan looked down at me and mouthed the words, "I'm restless mom!" That memory hit me so hard and my mind said, "Damn!" It said that right while I was sitting in church. I couldn't control the tears that rolled down my cheeks and for the rest of the song I was caught up in that memory. I let myself settle into that memory and after a bit I began to hear the rest of the words of the song.... </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You dwell in the songs that we are singing<br /> Rising to the Heavens<br /> Rising to Your heart<br /> Our praises filling up the spaces<br /> In between our frailty and everything You are<br /> You are the keeper of my heart<br /><br /> And I'm restless<br /> I’m restless<br /> 'Til I rest in You<br /> (Oh God I wanna rest in You)<br /><br /> Oh speak now for my soul is listening<br /> Say that You have saved me<br /> Whisper in the dark<br /> 'Cause I know You’re more than my salvation<br /> Without You I am hopeless<br /> Tell me who You are<br /> You are the keeper of my heart<br /><br /> Still my heart<br /> Hold me close<br /> Let me hear a still small voice<br /> Let it grow<br /> Let it rise<br /> Into a shout<br /> Into a cry<br /><br /> I am restless until I rest in You </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">......and so I then took that pain I was feeling and agreed with the song; I too was feeling restless in my grief and would have to choose to allow God to still my heart, let it grow and let it rise into a shout of joy. The remainder of the songs were about <em>celebrating Emmanuel, the God who wrote himself into my life by sending his Son all those years ago because he knew I would need him in this very moment.</em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My tears continued but now they were tears of praise as I celebrated that my son was no longer restless but probably celebrating from the heavens over his mom who was choosing to lift her grief up to God in praise. And my tears were for me as I felt so blessed to be in a place of allowing my "damn" to be turned into a praise. </span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vuV_BLoMu4M/UqTVXAKnnBI/AAAAAAAAAno/OsgQ6OjwcTI/s1600/Ryan%2527s+Bible2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vuV_BLoMu4M/UqTVXAKnnBI/AAAAAAAAAno/OsgQ6OjwcTI/s320/Ryan%2527s+Bible2.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We were then asked to open our Bibles up to Luke Chapter 2 and this is what I opened to:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ryan had written in his Bible in big letters, "Through God nothing is impossible. He wrote this right over the passage of Christ's birth. He recognized the significance of this Gift. He recognized that the Gift God gave us all those years ago made everything possible.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T6PoLZkLI_8/UqTVame1tKI/AAAAAAAAAnw/873K7n6FDcY/s1600/Ryan%2527s+Bible3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T6PoLZkLI_8/UqTVame1tKI/AAAAAAAAAnw/873K7n6FDcY/s320/Ryan%2527s+Bible3.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Across the page he also had written: "We're here for God's Plan." My tears began to flow again. Thank you Jesus for showing me, once again, my son's love for you and the clear message for me this morning. And, what a blessing for it to come to me through Ryan's handwriting. God's fingerprints were all over this moment.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We are here for God's plans. God's plan for Ryan on earth ended on April 7 of 2012. God's plan for me is still in motion. And no matter what the plan is, through God, nothing is impossible. Message was received.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Even though I feel renewed I have no doubt that the word "damn" will continue to form in my mind for I walk in a fallen world. Life can hit us write between the eyes and we are compelled to feel angry or exasperated or broken or sad.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This week I thought "damn" for a young boy I know who is plagued with a chronic illness that keeps him from so much in life. Yet I watched this same 16 year old boy post on his FaceBook this week <span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">Deuteronomy 31:6 "<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Be strong and courageous. Do not fear or be in dread of them, for it is the LORD your God who goes with you. He will not leave you or forsake you. " </span> He is allowing God to turn his "damns" into praise. </span></span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This week I thought "damn" for a friend of mine who chose to love a little girl and adopted her yet her love is often met with cursing and tirades that completely wear her down. Yet I watch my sweet friend choose to trust God for the heartache and acknowledge God is her only true strength. She is turning her "damns" into praise.</span></span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This week I thought "damn" for a man who has lost a lot of his eyesight yet shared with me how God has strengthened him through the story of Abraham. Abraham continually trusted God, even when it didn't look like it made sense. This man is turning his "damn" into praise.</span></span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span></span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">I am thinking at this very moment, "damn" for a family friend who in this last hour had to choose to take her husband off life support after a severe heart attack. I am praying she too will be able to turn her "damn" into praise as she watches the impact of his life on others and finds the purposes in her life without him.</span></span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I could go on and on.</span></span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">The point is that </span>there are "damns" all around us. But what a glorious thing when we see them turned into praise. When we go through trials all of our TRUTHS OF GOD are tested. Before the trial we might have believed "All things work together for good to those that love God and are called according to his purposes." But do we believe it in the trial too?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The stories I share above are people who are learning to trust God even with the ugly. They are choosing not to waste the trial but purposing to move it from "DAMN!" to PRAISE GOD! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I still don't think I will verbalize my "damns" out loud because God is the only one who needs to hear that cry of my heart. But I am grateful that I know he hears the frailty of my heart in those moments and reaches down and becomes the keeper of my heart. Because of this, I praise Him!</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span> </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong>My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. </strong></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong>2 Corinthians 12:9</strong></span></div>
<span class="woj"></span><br />Gail Wahlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05776535517966926135noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889777764335957296.post-86045735549030743422013-11-27T06:44:00.002-08:002013-11-27T06:59:26.173-08:00Only God....<br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-size: large;">This morning I woke up and laid there
thinking, "WOW, how can this be? It is only our 2nd holiday season
without Ryan and yet my heart is looking forward to it with anticipation and
not dread." How can that be? Only God!<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hlQOrJ9PLHE/UpYDhjKDDVI/AAAAAAAAAnE/o2dYfoLFthY/s1600/WOMAN+PRAYING.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hlQOrJ9PLHE/UpYDhjKDDVI/AAAAAAAAAnE/o2dYfoLFthY/s1600/WOMAN+PRAYING.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-size: large;">I read something yesterday that, once again,
put everything into perspective for me. I say "once again"
because God keeps sending me the same message. <em><b><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">When crisis happens we must adjust our life
to ACT on our beliefs of God.</span></b></em> When the rubber meets the
road in our life those truths that we hung onto are being tested. For me,
on that day after Ryan died a few my truths that were put into questions were:<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">God is always
present with his children</span></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">God can be
trusted</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">God protects us
24/7</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">God is faithful
and will never let us down</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">God makes the
right decisions</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">God is good</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">God’s way of
doing things is better than mine</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">God has planned a
life for me that is good</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I can trust
everything God says in his word<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
<o:p> </o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">On that dreadful day, in my moment of crisis, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I had to decide whether my</i></b>
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">truths
were still true or did they only apply when life was going well</i></b>?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is similar to the many confident claims we
make before we are parents about what we will and will not do and how others
should be doing it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we finally hit
those parental moments our confidence is shaken and we find ourselves doing and
saying things we never thought we would.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The difference in this analogy is that when we come to crisis we have
the option of holding onto GOD’S TRUTHS, not our own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These are something worth clinging to; but it
is a choice.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In my greatest moment of crisis I chose to cling to God’s
truths and not run from them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I simply
said, “Show me!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Show me how your Word
remains true in my life Lord when what I see doesn’t add up.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was a step of faith because <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Faith
is embracing the invisible</i></b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
is the assurance of what we hope for and the evidence of what we don’t see.
(Hebrews 11:1).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was asking God to show
me what I didn’t see.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So here I am, seventeen months into my journey of grief and headed into
my 2<sup>nd</sup> holiday season without my son and I have found God
faithful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has shown me how his Word
remains true in my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I walk with a
joy that could only come from him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
only other explanation would be that I am a Pollyanna and am just pretending
things are fine or that I have dishonored Ryan’s death by pretending it doesn’t
matter; these statements are simply not true.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I will probably tear up throughout the holidays, wish he was here and
have those stabbing darts hit me now and then; but these pieces of grief will
not rob me of the joy that is in my heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In fact, these pieces of grief keep me in need of my Savior and will
generate more depth of joy because he will meet me in those moments.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">As I was pulling myself awake this morning and thinking these thoughts
I picked up my phone and read of some heart wrenching news about some family
and friends; it seems crisis moments live in all of us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This news popped me out of bed and I couldn’t
get to my “quiet place” fast enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
needed God to remind me, once again, that he will meet us in these moments:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
<o:p> </o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He IS always
present in the moment; we just have to ask for him and not run away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He CAN be trusted;
we just have to put our trust in him and seek the invisible</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He DOES protect
us 24/7; the protection just might not look like we think it should</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">God IS faithful
and will never let us down; we need to embrace the invisible</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">God DOES makes
the right decisions; we have to trust his decisions impact more than just our
lives</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">God IS good; we
have to choose to trust that goodness</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">God’s way of
doing things IS better than mine; we have to trust his big picture view</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">God has planned a
life for me that IS good; we have to trust that what is before us is refining
us for what is ahead</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I can TRUST EVERYTHING God says in his word; I have to make this choice out of obedience to
the relationship<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">Making these choices has allowed me to
experience God’s presence in my life like never before; crisis brought me to
this place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only God</span>.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><strong>Crisis can either pull you into God or
away from him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our choices determine the
outcome</strong></span>.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></i></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">Let us hold
unswervingly to the hope we profess, <o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">for he who
promised is faithful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></i></b></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">Hebrews 10:23<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></i></b></div>
<br />Gail Wahlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05776535517966926135noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889777764335957296.post-655741739050547382013-11-20T04:53:00.001-08:002013-11-20T04:57:00.067-08:00Identity<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jGdhLxGALVY/Uoyv2830Y4I/AAAAAAAAAmw/fRA7UkBkFZA/s1600/Identity.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jGdhLxGALVY/Uoyv2830Y4I/AAAAAAAAAmw/fRA7UkBkFZA/s1600/Identity.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Who am I?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who am I
becoming?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Recently I was asked <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">how
my identity has changed since Ryan died</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Well THAT stopped me in my tracks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>How do I answer that?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What is the
truth?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So many thoughts swirled in my
mind as I tried to come up with an answer to that question.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am a woman who has been seared with the pain of the loss
of a child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am a woman who will
forever have a piece of her heart missing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am a woman who has had a deep wound, with a scar that is forming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The question is, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">how will that scar form and will my identity be wrapped up in the
appearance of that scar?</i> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In Romans 14:12 it says, “Each of us will give an account of
himself to God.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I take that verse very
seriously; I always have.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I come to
the end of my life and stand in that place of accounting, what will my life
account for?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Twenty one years ago God entrusted me with a journey that
included the death of a child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will
one day have to give an account for how I walked that journey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So when I look at my identity now seventeen
months after the death of my child I think asking myself what my identity has
become is a good question; there are many options:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Gail Wahl is the grieving mom of a child that died.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Poor soul, look at how sad she is.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Gail Wahl is a woman who lost her motivation in
life when her child died and simply exists to exist. She walks around numb.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Gail Wahl is a woman who doesn’t know why her
child fell 100 ft and will not stop until she finds the reason.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Gail Wahl blames God for the death of her son
and feels abandoned by him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She has lost
her faith.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Gail Wahl doesn’t understand why her son had to
die and is silently angry with God but is attempting to walk a faith road with
that hidden anger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That hidden anger
keeps her from really moving forward.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Gail Wahl misses her son deeply, but trusts God
with the big picture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She acknowledges
her pain and grief, but is not defined by it's ugliness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Instead, she is known for her faith in her Savior and uses every
opportunity to speak of his faithfulness through her pain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I guess I’m concluding that my identity has changed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do have a scar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is my own precious scar that God ordained just
for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Through my choices I will
determine whether it will become an ugly scar that turns people away, or a scar
that I will keep hidden and buried, or a scar of beauty that draws people into
the faithfulness of my Savior. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hmmm, I think I will choose a scar of beauty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What a waste Ryan’s death will be if I do not make this choice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, what a waste it
would be to not exhibit God’s faithfulness and live out the journey of faith he
has set before me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will one day have
to explain what I did with what I have been given.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My identity is shaped by how my heart has been shaped by the
Spirit within me as I journey down my road.<u><o:p></o:p></u></span></div>
Gail Wahlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05776535517966926135noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889777764335957296.post-33091785909259800172013-11-02T09:13:00.001-07:002013-11-02T09:13:59.663-07:00A cup of Mate' Tea with Ry....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pJ78pSdMdo4/UnUkf-rLRyI/AAAAAAAAAmY/d1VFv7sbB-s/s1600/Ryan+Portrait.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pJ78pSdMdo4/UnUkf-rLRyI/AAAAAAAAAmY/d1VFv7sbB-s/s320/Ryan+Portrait.jpg" width="235" /></a></div>
This morning I am wishing Ryan would be walking up those stairs so we could sit with my cup of coffee and his cup of Mate' tea and chat about this new passage I found. He was always good about giving me a different perspective; a perspective free of preconceived ideas.<br />
<br />
I love where Ryan and I were going with our relationship before he left us on this earth. He was just beginning to trust me as a friend and our conversations were becoming more about what God was doing in our lives than what Ryan was doing or not doing with his life; the sweetness of adult living.<br />
<br />
But I don't have Ry this morning. Instead I have his beautiful portrait staring down at me, his Bible, and the essence of who he was. Some may think that morbid or hanging on to the past, but to me it is a gift from God. I'm not trying to channel Ryan's spirit, but rather, allow myself to look at scripture with open eyes like he did. Having these pieces of him around me remind me of who he was and how he lived. God gave Ry to me to teach me these things. I do not doubt this and I will not waste the gift of this lesson.<br />
<br />
So this morning I look at Ephesians 2:19-22 and ask, "Would this passage excite you Ry like it does me? Would it give you hope and purpose like it does me?"<br />
<br />
<div class="heading passage-class-0">
<h3>
Ephesians 2:19-22</h3>
<div class="txt-sm">
The Message (MSG)</div>
</div>
<div class="passage version-MSG result-text-style-normal text-html ">
<span class="text Eph-2-19-Eph-2-22" id="en-MSG-12432"><sup class="versenum">19-22 </sup>That’s plain enough, isn’t it? You’re no longer wandering exiles. This kingdom of faith is now your home country. You’re no longer strangers or outsiders. You <i>belong</i> here, with as much right to the name Christian as anyone. God is building a home. He’s using us all—irrespective of how we got here—in what he is building. He used the apostles and prophets for the foundation. Now he’s using you, fitting you in brick by brick, stone by stone, with Christ Jesus as the cornerstone that holds all the parts together. We see it taking shape day after day—a holy temple built by God, all of us built into it, a temple in which God is quite at home.</span></div>
<br />
I am part of what God is building; a holy temple. I am just one brick or stone, but I am part of it. The apostles and prophets that went before me laid the foundation and now I am part of the walls being built up from the foundation. I am part of something bigger than myself. That visual excites me. Ryan was one of those bricks as well. His life was a strong brick on which the next brick could be fit. Visually I would like to see my brick stacked on top of his. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SWRHihMPrIY/UnUkVnXuIjI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/DoOimquu8Uk/s1600/brick.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SWRHihMPrIY/UnUkVnXuIjI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/DoOimquu8Uk/s1600/brick.jpg" /></a></div>
A brick is made from a mixture of clay and water that is hardened by the process of firing that is usually done in a kiln. We are a moldable clay. God is our brick maker. We are shaped by the storms of life and the heat of the fire. If we run from the storms and run from the fire we are running from that which will make us a solid footing for the next brick. Imagine a house built from crumbling bricks? <br />
<br />
God's household is not made of crumbling bricks; it is well built, unlike the world around us created by man. He has fit the building together, brick by brick. The household of God has no reason to fear the collapse of the structure! It is true, individual members may walk out. We must guard against any attitudes or actions that would lead us out of God's house. But we need not fear that this "building" will be destroyed, or that God will misplace us. We can trust our builder. As a Christian, I am not just a guest or occasional visitor - but a permanent member of the family, in a house upheld by His power! <br />
<br />
So this morning any sadness that I had over the pain of how my brick has been made firm (the loss of Ry), has been met with joy and excitement:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>I am excited that I am part of a structure that is being fitted for eternity and this gives me hope and not fear.</li>
<li>I am excited to fellowship with other bricks as we walk through the kiln of life and allow our brick maker to make us firm.</li>
<li>I find joy in the fact that Ry has been securely fastened so others may build upon his solid brick.</li>
</ul>
Thank you for letting me share my cup of Mate' with Ryan this morning. It has been sweet.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /><br />
<br />
<br />
Gail Wahlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05776535517966926135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889777764335957296.post-11238208826992582512013-09-15T06:36:00.001-07:002013-09-15T06:36:05.485-07:00The healing journey.......<span class="st"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"I'm healing." What does that mean anyway? The whole idea of being "healed" is so ambiguous. We pray for healing but what are we really asking for? </span></span><br />
<span class="st"></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span class="st"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The definition of healing is: <span><span class="st">to make healthy, whole, or sound; restore to health;</span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="st"></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span class="st"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">When a person has a physical affliction like disease, or sickness or damage to the body, the idea of being "physically healed" is comforting and longed for. We want our bodies restored to original health. When one has emotional damage the desire to be healed is to be able to be restored and to forget. When emotional damage happens because of loss, the healing is much more complicated. </span></span><br />
<span class="st"></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span class="st"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I don't ever want the stabbing pains of missing Ryan to go away. I have this sense that if it goes away that means I will have forgotten him; I don't ever want to forget him. The pain reminds me of who he was and the joy he brought to our lives. So, what kind of healing am I looking for? </span></span><br />
<span class="st"></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span class="st"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I want to continue to be able to feel the pain of loss and let it settle in and, remember. The remembering makes me feel closer to him. But then, <em><strong>the healing piece is me CHOOSING Jesus in that pain and him meeting me on the other side</strong></em>. This, to me is healing. It is finding Jesus in the pain and allowing him to strengthen and change me in the process. I don't want the pain to be what defines me, but the strength that comes out of it.</span></span><br />
<span class="st"></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span class="st"></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">An example of this type of healing happened yesterday. I woke up with a pit in my stomach and tears brimming in my eyes. As I sat and read FaceBook posts of perfect, lovely lives of others I got more and more irritated. I have no idea why this was happening other than the night before I was "doing life" attending high school volleyball and football games and was smacked in the face with many memories of our life with Ryan. I guess that is a good enough reason to have the rush of pain flow in. So, I'm sitting there, with a beautiful fall day ahead of me and I was getting sadder and more irritated with each passing minute. I let a few tears fall, looked up at my son's beautiful portrait and let it all just sink in. Looking at his portrait always makes me shape up because I can hear him telling me he loves me but get off my butt and don't waste the day. I had a conversation with God about it. I scolded him, thanked him and then asked him to help me with my day, and then made my move.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I took a deep breath and exhaled out the sadness and then hopped out of my chair, washed my face and took my dog for a walk in the beautiful Fall morning...and<em><strong> the trajectory of my day changed</strong></em>. It ended up being a beautiful Fall day with my family and the spring in my step returned. I got to spend a little time with Ry in the morning and then spent the rest of the day with the living. God met me on the other side of my pain and gave me the strength to move forward. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Healing from ANY pain, physical or emotional, can be found by CHOOSING to live in joy with our wounds. That joy comes by turning the pain over to Jesus and allowing him to move us forward. There is no other way. Jesus really is the only answer.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">O Lord my God, I called to you for help and you healed me. </span></em></strong></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Psalm 30:2</span></em></strong></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"></span></em></strong> </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">You have made known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand. </span></em></strong></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Psalm 16:11</span></em></strong></div>
Gail Wahlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05776535517966926135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889777764335957296.post-59990545867352014352013-08-30T14:53:00.002-07:002013-08-30T15:05:33.920-07:00Love Fiercely, Hold Loosely......<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">I sit in the airline
seat with my eyes closed and tears slowly escaping.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wonder if anyone notices the drops of
sorrow that come so unexpectedly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I
closed my eyes I had planned on catching up on lost sleep over the busy week,
but instead my ears become heightened to the noise of the chatter around me;
two little kids sitting next to their mother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Her soothing tone and their sweet giggles instantly flash me back to
another time, another mom and her two sweet boys. Without warning my mind
flashes back to the many flights I flew with my two little ones all those years
ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sit wondering if the mother next
to me recognizes how precious these memory making moments are and how fast time
slips through your hands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wonder if
she realizes how unimportant it is to <em>control</em> and how important it is to <em>love</em>.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-azAfCo1Lj60/UiEMAqYaVhI/AAAAAAAAAlQ/fNlYEOElmNk/s1600/551993_10151133927218057_230603700_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-azAfCo1Lj60/UiEMAqYaVhI/AAAAAAAAAlQ/fNlYEOElmNk/s200/551993_10151133927218057_230603700_n.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-azAfCo1Lj60/UiEMAqYaVhI/AAAAAAAAAlQ/fNlYEOElmNk/s1600/551993_10151133927218057_230603700_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">My mind wanders through its’ bank of memories of the times I
was given the opportunity to fly alone with my two little boys to visit
relatives every summer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I smile at the
memories of layovers, bloody noses, items left on planes, screaming babies,
crabby stewardesses, rambunctious boys, no cell phones, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>enlisting strangers for help, stress, and of
course, the fun of telling the stories afterwards.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I see it all now, opportunities for
memories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have this keen sense
of how the whole of life is just that; opportunities to create memories.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">My memory bank of my children is filled with good and bad;
way more good than bad, but because I am a flawed human being there are some bad
mixed in with the good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is
interesting to me how most of the bad that comes to mind is when I needed to be
in control of the moment and let my anger be the controlling agent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, how I wish I could redo some of those
moments, but I can’t; the past is the past.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I can only correct things for the future. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, I will always be grateful that I began
learning these lessons before it was too late.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aN1rhP6bFoM/UiEM0Zj3R1I/AAAAAAAAAlY/lkX0Wb-_VIs/s1600/Ryan+&+Mom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="132" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aN1rhP6bFoM/UiEM0Zj3R1I/AAAAAAAAAlY/lkX0Wb-_VIs/s200/Ryan+&+Mom.jpg" width="200" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">Seven years ago when Ryan was a freshman, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God began to show me how to enjoy Ryan’s
uniqueness and see it as a gift and stop trying to change what God had created.
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It didn’t happen overnight, but rather,
it was a slow progression of enjoyment versus frustration. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Raising Ryan taught me such an invaluable
lesson; <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><em>love fiercely, but hold loosely</em></b>.
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His death was the ultimate lesson in
holding loosely.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">I sit on this plane with
tears seeping through my closed lids and I have a sense of all the strangers surrounding
me and wonder how they were loved?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How
are they being loved?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since Ryan left
this world I have this intense desire to look into people’s eyes to
try and discern what is really there. My care for them is so much more heightened.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">This last week I was in Florida at a conference on
Independent Living for youth in foster care.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There were probably 400 or so youth who attended that were either in
foster care or had aged out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I found
myself looking into many of their eyes and wondering; what brought you here?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Have you ever felt loved?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unfortunately, I saw the same haunted look in
many of their eyes; the look of pain, hurt, anger and an utter sense of
loneliness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were those that tried
to cover that pain by being loud, or being noticed through their dress or their
voice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were those that appeared to
want to hide through their slumped shoulders and diverted eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the pain was evident, regardless of their
mask of choice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My heart broke for them
and prayed for them as I continued to see them throughout the conference.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Conversely, there were a few youth that stood
out and I had to wonder, what made the difference?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why have they risen above their peers and
appear to have made their way above the pain?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was able to sit on a couple sessions where some of these youth
spoke.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each story was the same.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each one of these youth that were catapulted
into foster care eventually had someone come along side of them that loved them
fiercely but held them loosely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I marvel
at the power of love and the power of relationship.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess this is why I take my love for the
Lord and His love for me and that personal relationship I have with him so
seriously; it can move mountains and seriously change the world if we let it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">I am forever a work in progress of learning how to love fiercely,
but hold loosely. I want to grasp every opportunity God gives me to love those
around me and allow God to shape the memory by being an active, obedient
participant. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My tears have dried.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m feeling grateful for the family God has given
me; Tom, Luke</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Xlaq-s1ujlg/UiEVDFeawnI/AAAAAAAAAls/XnvNJ4G7jrY/s1600/Ryan%2527s+Memorial+061.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Xlaq-s1ujlg/UiEVDFeawnI/AAAAAAAAAls/XnvNJ4G7jrY/s320/Ryan%2527s+Memorial+061.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;"> and Amanda and will continue to love them fiercely and allow God
to show me how to hold them loosely so that He can do His beautiful work in
them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am also grateful for the gift of
my job to love on youth that find themselves in foster care and then have no
place to go from there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I find it
amazing how the birth of my son Ryan all those years ago and now his death, have been
part of God’s preparation for me to
understand deeply how I can trust Him enough to love others fiercely,
yet hold them loosely into His care.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Only God.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Gail Wahlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05776535517966926135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889777764335957296.post-26464564529873664802013-08-11T21:56:00.001-07:002013-08-11T21:56:40.161-07:00Lead us to the good stuff......I was in church this morning and I had this overwhelming sense that like my own family, our church family was making its' way out of the tunnel of crisis and pain that they too have been in over the last couple years. Colorado Springs has had two major fires with lives and homes lost. We have had a number of deaths due to illness, suicide, accidents and even murder. Our church body has been there to help our community navigate through it all. And yet, during that time there have been a number of changes in staff, some church members have left and there has seemed to be a spirit of restlessness. Pain and crisis often brings restlessness, impatience and sometimes unforgiveness and blame. I am grateful to be part of a church whose leadership has stayed the course, done the work, sought the Lord and brought us to a sweeter depth than before. As I sat in the pews this morning my spirit was filled with a sense of excitement for what is ahead.<br />
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My experience in church this morning reminded me that the outcome of pain is worth the work it requires. God continues to teach me this lesson. As I live with pain I am continually given the opportunity to choose what I will do with it. There are days when those around me might be out of sorts, I might feel out of sorts and it seems so much easier to just lash out, walk away, ignore what I am feeling, or not have that difficult conversation. Yet that momentary "easier choice" really just delays the hard work that is necessary; it prolongs the pain and can cause more pain. <br />
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I cannot really run from the pain, it will just follow me. I'm reminded of Jonah who tried to run from where God told him to go. Remember where he ended up? In a big slimy whale. God gathered him up in a slimy whale to get him to STOP his running and LISTEN UP. I don't want to be caught up in a whale because of fear of doing the hard things. I want to be where He wants me to be even if it is hard. My experience tells me that this choice brings a sweet depth to my life and depth is what I'm after.<br />
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My pain has altered my life. It will never look the same. Colorado Springs will never look the same. But we can still look ahead with excitement to what is ahead. I trust my God to lead me and my city through the hard stuff and lead us to the good stuff. <br />
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Gail Wahlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05776535517966926135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889777764335957296.post-34724128805859983462013-07-21T16:04:00.001-07:002013-07-21T16:47:12.633-07:00Faith....is it for everyone?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Every day I am confronted with the reality of my Faith. From day one of my grief journey I have known that my Faith would be the thing that would get me through. But what is faith and why do I feel my Faith has been so pivotal to my healing? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gxw-HOXJb8E/UexkW08LXyI/AAAAAAAAAko/xCM3tQdk1bU/s1600/Faith.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gxw-HOXJb8E/UexkW08LXyI/AAAAAAAAAko/xCM3tQdk1bU/s1600/Faith.png" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial;">Faith is a f</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">irm belief in something for which there is no proof<u>.</u> <strong>Hebrews 11:1 says "</strong></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><i>Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen</i>."</strong> </span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><u>Faith is present tense</u>. It is believing <em>right now</em> in something in which we have no proof of or have not yet seen. On day one of my grief journey, I had never been in that particular position before. I had never seen God heal my broken heart to the extent it would need healing. I had never seen God restore my joy to the level it would need restoring. I had never needed God so desperately to show me why my pain was worth it. But on that day, on the morning of April 8, the day after Ryan died, I stepped into a level of faith in which I had never been before. I didn't just believe or hope that God was going to do something, choosing faith verses crumbling was saying, "<u>It is done</u>!" He wasn't going to be, my faith was saying <u>he already was</u> my rescuer, healer, companion and strength.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">What gave me the confidence to do that? Why did I choose to take that step?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I believe that is where <em>hope </em>comes in. Hope drives us to faith. Hope is a desire with expectation. <u>Hope is future tense</u>. The Hebrew word translated as hope is yachal. Yachal means to wait expectantly. Don't be impressed with my Hebrew, I looked it up. I have said before that years ago I shared with one of my sisters that I thought one day I was going to be put into a position to really show the faith and hope that lied within me. I always hoped (waited expectantly) that when I was tested, my faith would hold its' ground. I always had the hope that it would.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Since I was young, age 7, my hope has been in the Lord. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>Psalm 31:24</strong> <strong> "</strong><em><strong>Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the LORD."</strong> </em>It has grown with my age. I have spent the last 42 years allowing the Lord to shape my hope, a hope in Him. I look back over the years and see a steady increase of "Moments of Faith" (this is what I fondly call them now), preparing me for the next moment and culminating with this most recent event in my life, Ryan's death. It has been a life of practicing those moments of faith and watching the depth of my faith increase as I made those choices. These moments have been big and small, but they all led me to the point of decision, will I trust Him?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">When Ryan died I was faced with the reality, was Ryan my hope? Without him, would I be able to continue? Oh, I adored that boy and absolutely loved being his mom. I still love being his mom and am grateful I was chosen to walk this road because I had that title "Ryan's mom". I wouldn't trade this job with anyone, even if I had to do it all over again. The title comes with much pain but I have learned that my hope was not in Ryan. My hope was and is in the Lord. And this is why I think perhaps there are variances in faith. <u>We exhibit faith based on where our hope is.</u></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Vrq_frm2uT0/UexkZh-HK6I/AAAAAAAAAk0/fEIKwyXVax0/s1600/Hope.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Vrq_frm2uT0/UexkZh-HK6I/AAAAAAAAAk0/fEIKwyXVax0/s320/Hope.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial;">It is so easy to put our hope in what we can see; our spouses, our children, our homes, our jobs, our finances, our church, our friends, our health, our safety, our self sufficiency. We cannot say with confidence that any of these options will be found faithful. They all have and will fail us at some point; none will last forever and none will provide that unfailing love for us to rest upon. <em>"<strong>May your unfailing love rest upon us, O LORD, even as we put our hope in you." Psalm 33:22 </strong></em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In my 49 years God has never once failed me. Have I seen pain and suffering? Yes. But does that mean He failed? No. He has walked me through each moment and I have come out on the other side with a renewed love for Him and for others. He continues to heal my brokenness and show me an unfailing love. So, as much as I love all of the things I've mentioned above and would grieve if many of them left my life, my hope is not in any of them. My hope is in the Lord and He is the only one that will be found faithful no matter what moment I find myself in. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am just like anyone else. I have no special powers, I have no special gifts. I am just a woman who has chosen to cultivate a hope in the Lord and because of that my faith has stayed the course and grown deeper with each moment of testing. Faith is for everyone and we all have access to the same measures of faith, but faith requires choosing it in the moment and not just hoping for it At some point we have to reach for it and claim it; calling it out, "It is done!" </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I will continue to cultivate my hope by growing in God's Word and feeding my mind and soul with the things of the Lord which will allow me to trust Him in each moment. If I do not know Him, I cannot trust Him. I wonder sometimes if Ryan's death was the ultimate defining moment for me or if there will be more? I have no insight into that but I do know that </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I will continue to wait expectantly for more opportunities for my faith to call out, "It is done!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />Gail Wahlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05776535517966926135noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889777764335957296.post-18084799755747841732013-06-23T08:31:00.000-07:002013-06-23T08:31:23.888-07:00I lift my eyes up to the hills
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Lift up
your eyes to the hills” Psalm 121:1 and go forward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is no other way.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Walking
through grief with the Lord is an amazing journey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is complex, yet simple. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The complexity comes as I walk around daily
with emotions that conflict each other and move me from joy to sorrow in an
instance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes I wonder that I am
not immobilized.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The simplicity comes in
what I do with that sorrow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In those
moments I choose <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">to lift my eyes to the
hills from where my help comes from</i> because I have chosen to keep God at
the very center of that joy and sorrow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This choice enables me to continue to go forward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is no other way for me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This choice
I have made does not mean there is no more pain and that I don’t experience a
heavy weight on my heart. Summer seems particularly hard as this is when Ryan
would come alive and our home would be the hub of excitement, laughter and activity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our home is STILL alive and filled with those
things, yet there is always this little anchor of pain that co-exists with me
as I acknowledge that there is something missing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even when I’m truly laughing and my heart
feels filled with joy, my mind is saying, “Ryan would love this” and an arrow
of pain sears through. Yesterday was filled with those moments and I guess that
is why I find myself needing to work through this today.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It isn’t
hard to imagine where Ryan would be right now and what he would be doing with
his life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His friends, cousins and
siblings have moved on to places that I know, if Ryan were here, he would be
right there with them, experiencing it with them or cheering them on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But then I think, “Would they be there if
Ryan hadn’t died?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Life is filled with
cause and effect and we don’t know how circumstances would be different if our
circumstances hadn’t changed; if our lives hadn’t been altered with pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am grateful that many, many of these kiddos
have moved forward with strength and purpose; each searching their own walks
with the Lord.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I delight in watching
where the Lord is taking each of them and appreciate when they allow us glimpses
into those walks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we see strength
and beauty in those walks it makes us know that Ryan’s death was not in
vain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their pain has caused them to
search God deeper and choose beauty over ashes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That sentence right there brings healing to my heart.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I have
learned to trust God with each moment of my life, understanding that He has the
eternal perspective.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He knows what “cause”
will bring about the right “affect”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
has my best interest and has the best interest of all who love Ryan. And, if I
really mean that, don’t I have to trust that Ryan’s death is part of God’s bigger
plan?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That takes real trust.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">But
God has never failed</b> <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">me</b>, so in
those moments of searing pain when my joy and sorrow meet, when his absence is
felt so deeply, I must lift up my eyes to the hills and say, “O.K. God, I trust
you for the bigger picture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Turn my
ashes into beauty.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then, I have to
let him do that by not clinging to my ashes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Healing is
coming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The pain is not so
constant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I think the pain will
always be with me because God uses it to keep me close to Him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It keeps me in that place of needing to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">lift up my eyes to the hills</i> in order to
move forward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It puts me in a place of
trusting God for wherever I am, and know that however it is wrapped, in joy or
sorrow, pain or laughter<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">, His plan is to
prosper us and not harm us, to give us hope for the future</i>. (Jeremiah
29:11).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Our hope is
in our future.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Luke just returned from
Guatemala last night and today Amanda returns from Costa Rica and Cassie from
Utah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My two nieces, Libby and Elle and an
extra friend, will be joining us on Tuesday for a few days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our home is going to be alive and filled with
joy and laughter as we all move forward experiencing that “bigger picture” that
God has designed for us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">I continue to move forward.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><o:p></o:p></span></span> </div>
Gail Wahlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05776535517966926135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889777764335957296.post-8833219991505703912013-05-10T17:00:00.002-07:002013-05-10T17:00:38.350-07:00Mother's Day......GOD KNOWS<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Mother’s Day is approaching again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I find myself asking, “Why do we have to
celebrate this Hallmark holiday?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why do
we have to highlight a day to celebrate moms when each day should be that kind
of day?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Highlighting this day only
makes it more painful for those who could not bear children, for those whose
children have turned their backs and for those that have lost children. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am one of them now. I am one whose joy and sorrow is painfully highlighted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-50tevzRlBbg/UY2Jb6eqbVI/AAAAAAAAAjM/OfyZUoJMyAw/s1600/Ryan+%2526+Mom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-50tevzRlBbg/UY2Jb6eqbVI/AAAAAAAAAjM/OfyZUoJMyAw/s320/Ryan+%2526+Mom.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I2Ab0RMWUzQ/UY04off47PI/AAAAAAAAAi8/w4l8C4aNhEI/s1600/Ryan+and+mom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I2Ab0RMWUzQ/UY04off47PI/AAAAAAAAAi8/w4l8C4aNhEI/s1600/Ryan+and+mom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"> </a><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I have always enjoyed celebrating my motherhood and
looked forward to Mother’s Day with delight, seeing it as a celebration of God’s
gifts to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> In my joy </span>I had no real vision for
those who might find this day painful. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
see you now, I understand your pain. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like
you, I step into it feeling my own desire for something different, the thing
that I think would make me complete. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am
torn between looking forward to celebrating the opportunity I have had to
mother the gifts right in front of me and the anguish of missing the one who
can no longer celebrate with me; the one who started me on my journey of
motherhood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I foresee this as being a
day that will forever hold mixed emotions, the joy of what is and the sorrow
for what cannot be.</span></span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5ms17v7lwJc/UY02paW0XnI/AAAAAAAAAig/43qz3JQd7TQ/s1600/Amanda+%2526+Mom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5ms17v7lwJc/UY02paW0XnI/AAAAAAAAAig/43qz3JQd7TQ/s200/Amanda+%2526+Mom.jpg" width="133" /></a><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I can already see the gleaming mothers walking into church
with their passel of children surrounding them in the pews, faces beaming,
offering each other special touches throughout the service.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is a beautiful picture; giver of life,
gift of life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know what this looks
like because I have been that mom for 20 years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But now I see other faces, those who look on longingly and those that
look on with pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My picture and my
view have changed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The strokes of my
picture are textured with sorrow and joy and I continue to ask God to show me
the beauty in my new picture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For He
promises “</span></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #001320; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">They that sow in tears shall reap in joy”. Psalm 126:5</span></i></b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">I believe in His promises, but I still wonder if I can fully
celebrate the gift of motherhood on Mother’s Day with the searing pain of my
reality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wonder if my children will
always <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">feel</i> robbed, as I do, of the
pure joy of Mother’s Day? I hope not, but I cannot be sure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Regardless of what I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">feel</i>, I look to His Word for His promises and for how the faithful
have responded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t ignore what Job
said, "<strong><em>The LORD gave me what I had, and the LORD has taken it away. Praise the name of the LORD!" Job 1:21</em></strong> Others have gone before me for thousands of years and walked this road. I am not the first one. Others have gone before me and have chosen to praise the Lord.</span><span style="color: #001320; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--MKLulFdZ6w/UY04kTngYXI/AAAAAAAAAi0/HdEUWhaKjs8/s1600/Luke%2526+mom2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--MKLulFdZ6w/UY04kTngYXI/AAAAAAAAAi0/HdEUWhaKjs8/s320/Luke%2526+mom2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">So here is what I do know, </span><span style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 115%;">God knows</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He knows of my
sorrow, He knows my uncertainty, He knows of my conflict between celebrating my
present and mourning my past.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He knows
how my children step into Mother’s Day with trepidation, knowing their mother’s
heart is celebrating and broken at the same time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 115%;">God knows</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And because </span><span style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 115%;">God knows</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"> and holds my yesterdays and my
tomorrows, I can step forward in my uncertainty for what will be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can trust Him to hold me, to comfort me and
to fill my heart with joy when the rubble of the day has emptied it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t have to have all the answers; I just
need the Faith to step forward, trust and rest in His promises.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 115%;">God knows</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">, and that is really all this mom needs to know as I step into this
Mother’s Day.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="st1"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="color: #444444; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“For </span></i></b></span><span class="st1"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="color: #444444; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I KNOW</span></i></b></span><span class="st1"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="color: #444444; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"> the plans I have for you,” </span></i></b></span><span class="st1"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="color: #444444; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">declares the </span></i></b></span><em><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="color: #444444; font-size: 18pt; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">LORD</span></i></em><span class="st1"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="color: #444444; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">, “plans to prosper you and not to
harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Jeremiah 29:11</span></i></b></span></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></b></span></div>
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Gail Wahlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05776535517966926135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889777764335957296.post-68220704176193584232013-04-19T14:53:00.002-07:002013-04-19T14:53:57.634-07:00Mission Impossible.............................
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">Recently we
watched the latest version of “Mission Impossible”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As corny as it was, the line, “Your mission,
should you choose to accept it is……………….”, keeps running through my head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is a line that I believe God has spoken
to me many times in life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"> </span><br />
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">One year ago</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">, on April 7 when Ryan fell, the Lord
said, “Gail, your latest mission, should you choose to accept it, is to live
faithfully and trust me even though I have taken Ryan to live with me.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Two years ago</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> God said, “Gail your latest mission,
should you choose to accept it, is to live faithfully and trust me even though
I’m asking you to bring in a teenage girl who comes from a completely different
background and include her in your family of boys.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Three years ago</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> God said, “Gail, your latest
mission, should you choose to accept it, is to live faithfully and trust me
even though your husband just had a stroke and might be paralyzed for the rest
of his life.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I can see
these moments so clearly now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each of
these missions prepared me for the next mission; never a step that was not
ordered by the Lord. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“</i></b></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #001320; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">The LORD makes firm
the steps of the one who delights in him.” (Psalm 37:23)</span></i></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #001320; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"> </span></b><span style="color: #001320; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">With
each step I learned to trust the Lord more confidently.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My motto has become, “You think I can do
this, I can do this, let’s do this.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Sometimes that motto has been spoken in a whisper of pain and tears, but
I still made the choice to speak it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: black;">
</span><br />
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<span style="color: #001320; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">I have to ask myself, is there a mission that is really
impossible when God is at the helm?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
would think that I’ve experienced some pretty “impossible” missions from man’s
perspective.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But from God’s perspective He
tells me that <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“I can do ALL things through Christ who is MY STRENGTH” (Philippians
4:13)</i></b> Have the missions been difficult and painful, absolutely!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But impossible, I will say no.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We are
heading into year two without Ryan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How
can that be? My mind wonders what will come next.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whatever it is, because He has shown Himself
faithful and true to His word, I will maintain the posture of one who stands,
ready for action, awaiting His voice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For
in the waiting </span><span class="googqs-tidbit"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #001320; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">my strength is being
renewed and I will mount up with wings like eagles and run and not be weary; I
will walk and not faint</span></i></b></span></span><span class="googqs-tidbit"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #001320; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">. (Isaiah 40:31)</span></i></b></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: black;">
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">Missions can
be hard and filled with pain, but impossible?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Only if I choose to let them be.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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Gail Wahlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05776535517966926135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889777764335957296.post-55795987554536748542013-03-30T07:22:00.001-07:002013-03-30T07:22:46.851-07:00Remembering......Death Equals Life<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As Christ followers, Easter has always been a sweet celebration as we recognize the meaning of Christ's death and resurrection. He was the Sacrificial Lamb for us and because of that we have new life in Christ and a hope for our future. Yet because of life events, it will forever have deeper meaning as our son now lives out the true reason we celebrate Easter. But this Easter our minds and hearts are seared with a mixture of memories and hope; pain and joy. We can't help but remember....</span></span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SU4Phry8n5w/UVb0hDtpkrI/AAAAAAAAAhM/Q5H4YwmZwFA/s1600/Easter+2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SU4Phry8n5w/UVb0hDtpkrI/AAAAAAAAAhM/Q5H4YwmZwFA/s320/Easter+2010.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was Good Friday, 2012 and I was standing in church worshiping with my family. We stood in a row, Tom, Ryan (20), me, Luke (15) and Amanda (18).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was odd that Ryan was standing in between Tom and me but I remember the catch in my chest and the tears beginning to pool in my eyes as I felt the joy of that moment; our children standing with us, praising the Lord with exuberance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As we were praying Ryan put his long arms around Tom and I; another uncommon occurrence but one that I remember taking in as a beautiful moment that would not be forgotten. There was much banter that evening after the service and a real sense of joy in our home; brothers and sister getting along and jovial teasing amongst everyone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ryan was usually “on the go” and heading out the door to experience some great adventure, but this night he stayed home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I stretched out on the couch preparing myself for a family movie and Ryan came barreling down and plopped himself right in front of me laying horizontal; forcing me to have to sit up a bit so I could see over his big frame. I spent the evening watching the movie and playing with his crazy hair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Again, this was an uncommon occurrence but one that seemed so natural; a mom loving on her boy and a boy seeming to want the comfort of his mom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That night as we all went to bed there was a sense of peace and contentment.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The next day I was up early preparing my grocery list for Easter dinner; I would be cooking for family and friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The day was also going to be filled with dropping Luke at friends for the day and a trip to the mall to find a dress for Amanda for a CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocate) event that she and I were scheduled to speak at in a couple weeks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sat at the table making my lists and all of a sudden I received a text from Ryan; he was in the bathroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The text said, “How can I pray for you today?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I chuckled and a few minutes later he came running up the stairs with climbing gear in hand and I smiled at him and said, “Really, you couldn’t just ask me that in person?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His lips turned into that awesome smile of his and a twinkle formed in his eyes and that’s all that needed to be said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I asked where he was going and he said, “I’m going climbing. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I need some time to think.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ryan had recently been going through a difficult breakup and it had taken a toll.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ryan and I had had some very heartfelt conversations in the previous weeks over this topic so I knew spending time climbing on “his rocks” would be very therapeutic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We told each other we loved each other and out the door he went.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The rest of the day was filled with our planned activities and it was about 3:00 p.m. and Amanda and I had exhausted the mall, and each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were headed to the car in silence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Purchasing dresses for beautiful teenage girls is not an event that usually went well in our home; Mom’s ideas and daughter’s ideas were very different.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Amanda got to the car before me and was listening to her voicemails.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I got in she was looking at her phone with a confused look on her face. She hung up and said one of Ryan's friends had left a weird message and I should call him back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I called him as I pulled out of the parking lot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I got through Ryan's friend said Ryan had an accident and he didn’t know any details but I should call another one of his friends that had more info; another climbing buddy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I quickly called him and he said he didn’t have any clear details but that the 15 year old boy Ryan had been climbing with, had called his mother and said Ryan had fallen and the rescue teams were on the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He gave me the boy's mom’s number and I called that number.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was all happening while I was driving; yes, that was a bad decision but I was trying to get home to Tom and find out what was happening at the same time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I reached his mom and she immediately handed the phone to the rescue worker that she was climbing through the brush with to get to Ryan and her son.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The boys had decided to drive miles back on a gravel road and climb through brush and then up the rocks to a “sweet” climbing spot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The rescue worker couldn’t tell me more than that it was bad and he would call me as soon as he had more details. Ugh!!!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said they would send some firemen to pick Tom and me up and bring us to where they were.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Amanda and I arrived home and I sent Amanda in the house to tell Tom what was going on while I remained in the car, trying to extract more information from the rescue worker. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It still hadn’t dawned on me that this was really serious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was imagining some broken bones, some scrapes; I was fairly calm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I went into the house and we all sat and waited patiently for the fire trucks to pull up. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I made a few calls, text a few people and asked for prayer. I was amazed at how calm we appeared.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t think any of us thought it was going to be that bad because Ryan always got out of his scrapes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had actually been known to joke that he was sprinkled with “pixie dust” because he always somehow landed on his feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We continued to wait and then finally, after about 15 minutes, we got impatient and called 911 and told them our situation and that we were waiting for an emergency crew to come but no one was coming and could they please find out what was going on; they placed us on hold and then said they would call us back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We waited, beginning to get irritated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tom called again and we were put on hold, again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After about forty-five minutes I saw a police car come up our street, and then another and another.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I rushed out the door telling Tom to hurry; still thinking we were going to see Ryan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I got to the street and my eyes met the first police officer and, I knew.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew in that instant that our life had changed forever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I screamed like I’ve never screamed before and crumpled onto the driveway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember thinking how great it felt to be able to scream without any concern for what people thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is weird how I remember thinking that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You would think that my mind would be a blur, I’ve read so many accounts of people not remembering things; but I feel like I remember it all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sat their crumpled, wailing, with my husband’s arms around me and three or four police officers standing over me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is a moment in time that I will never forget and crosses through my mind often.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We left Amanda alone in the house to be there for Luke when he got home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t imagine what it was like to hear her mom wail at the top of her lungs and then be left behind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember getting into the back seat of the police car with Tom and crying into his shoulder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember stopping almost instantly, as if another personality took over, and I began to call people, text people and communicate how our life just changed. I felt like this communication was my lifeline and my link to sanity. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was awful hearing their response and the agony I caused them, but I needed to share the pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also had to call the home where Luke was and try and explain the life altering event we were just catapulted into.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn’t speak directly to Luke yet because I couldn’t bare that pain too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will forever be grateful to our friends for taking care of this message and I will forever feel pain for not being the ones to do it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I had to trust others to take care of my other two children as we drove to see where our baby spent his last moments. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Tom was a rock as his crazy wife made phone calls, stopped and cried, sent texts, stopped and cried, asked questions of the police, stopped and cried.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a long ride up to the wilderness area they had been climbing, probably forty-five minutes to an hour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As we pulled up we saw rescue workers, fire trucks, an ambulance, and yes, the media was already there. How had they beaten the parents?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This annoyed me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They rushed us into the ambulance to wait with the young boy and his parents and avoid the media.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I stepped into the ambulance and saw this young boy who witnessed my son’s last breath.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had never met him. I had no idea what happened, what caused Ryan to fall, but my heart went out to this boy who was Luke’s age.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn’t imagine Luke experiencing this life and death event.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My goal became caring for this young child and making sure he was o.k.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tom and I only asked the basic questions of what happened because my heart felt any deep probing would wound this young boy more than necessary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ryan was gone; making this boy feel guilty by probing him with questions was of no value.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He only knew that Ryan had let him climb down first and after he got to the bottom all of a sudden he heard a thud and there Ryan lay below him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His friend rushed to him and gave him CPR but Ryan was already gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was it; nothing more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was climbing and then he was falling 100 feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ryan’s climbing friends have checked all the equipment and retraced the climber’s steps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have found no explanation for why Ryan fell other than, it was God’s timing and He could do more with Ryan’s death than He could with his life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As strange as it sounds, this brings me peace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It wasn’t random, it was part of the bigger picture and my son and our response was part of the bigger picture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t process this immediately, but in my heart as I sat in that ambulance, I knew Ryan’s death and our response was going have impact on many lives. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Tom left me alone to my thoughts and went to talk with the emergency crew and gather more details and I waited with the young climber, his parents and another of Ryan's climbing friends that had made his way up there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> His climbing friend</span> was a good friend of the young climber's family and Ryan’s and owned the home Ryan had been semi-living in and another home that Ryan had been helping to remodel. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew Ryan had been really caring for this man's heart and had been working on showing him Jesus, so I felt compelled to gather them together and pray; pray for healing that was going to need to come, pray for the rescue workers and pray for strength to get through whatever was ahead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember it all.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Tom came back in and handed me the information from the coroner; a list of funeral homes and other awful information a parent should never have to know about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At this point I began to feel overwhelmed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t even know where any cemeteries were in Colorado Springs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But just at the point where my heart was feeling overwhelmed, the first of our support team arrived; another of Ryan’s climbing buddies, and the Youth Pastor of our church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Where did they come from?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How did they know where we were?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How did they know how to get to this remote spot?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It felt like they were dropped from Heaven at just the right time for just the right purpose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Youth Pastor took the funeral information from my hand and said, “I’ll take care of this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You don’t need to worry about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is now my job.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wept.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">After I gained my composure we began to chat and share with the new comers what we knew.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These two men had been such a big part of Ryan’s high school life and had been part of the team to help get him through his years of “shenanigans” (that’s what I fondly call them).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could tell their hearts were ripped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My strength began to waiver and just at that time some of our closest friends and their son popped their heads into the ambulance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Again, how did they know where we were?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wept.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God had sent the army to help hold our swords and fight the battle we found ourselves in; the battle to make sense out of tragedy.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We were told it would be a while before they could bring Ryan down because of the difficult terrain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We settled in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of the rescue workers brought in sandwiches and, I called home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I spoke to our friend, the mom of where Luke had been and found that they had brought Luke to our home and the troupes were rallying around Luke and Amanda.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Apparently our home was filled with friends that wrapped around our children and each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lists were being made of people to bring meals and people who wanted to be available to help in the upcoming days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Food had been brought in and the troupes were being fed. At one point someone gathered everyone in Ryan’s room and they had a time of worship and prayer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t imagine how much that thrilled Ryan to watch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I honestly don’t have many regrets about how we walked through that time but a pain I will always have is that I could not be in two places at once; waiting to say our goodbyes to our son and being there for Amanda and Luke in their horrible time of tragedy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But God sent an army in our stead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had to trust God and our friends to take care of our children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hung up and I wept.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God was already being so faithful.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">At some point I needed to go to the bathroom and since we were up in the mountains I needed to be driven down a ways to find a bathroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of the fire fighters offered to take me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As we were driving I found out that he knew Ryan; he went to our church and had gone on a mission trip with Ryan and his son knew Ryan as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He filled our driving time with stories of Ryan and shared ways Ryan had had a big impact on his son’s life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was a story I didn’t know. What a blessing; God was faithful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The team God sent us on the mountain stayed with us until the very end; after four hours they brought Ryan down the mountain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They had told us to wait in the ambulance but Tom was not having it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As soon as Ryan was brought out of the brush, Tom was there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No Coroner, no rescue worker, no one in authority was going to prevent him from seeing his son.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was then escorted out of the ambulance and Tom and I were given an opportunity to say goodbye to our baby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was so dark and cold and as I stepped up to Ryan the world stopped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I kissed his precious cold forehead, gently touched the one small wound on his head, inhaled deeply his scent, the scent that we would always know as Ryan but knew would begin to fade, scolded him one more time, told him I would always love him; and then I was done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could take nothing more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tom gathered me and put me into our friend’s truck and we headed back down that dark cold mountain, away from the place that robbed me of my son.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As we drove down the long, winding mountain road I remember weeping against Tom’s shoulder and then exclaiming, “Dang, dang, dang, dang, dang!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted so badly to be able to speak worse, but I just couldn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It made me giggle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It wasn’t a crazy giggle; it was a second of laughter, even in tragedy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There would be more to come.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I once again called home and said we were on our way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were asked if we wanted everyone to leave before we got there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess I wanted to witness what my kids had been experiencing so we said, “No, they can stay.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we pulled into the driveway my strength waivered and I wondered why we hadn’t sent everyone home; but we were home and they were there and we would forge through; probably the first in “doing the difficult”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I walked into the door and was stunned at the faces staring back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every corner of our living room was filled with friends; Luke and Amanda’s friends, our friends, Ryan’s friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was as if I was viewing what was before me in slow motion, looking at each individual in the eye, seeing their pain, their love, their longing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t know what to say.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were looking for answers; we really had none except, he was gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I shared the basic details that Ryan had fallen and at that point we didn’t really know why.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was it; there was nothing more to share.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We hugged everyone and I think I sat down next to Luke.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Youth Pastor made his way over and asked me in a whisper if I wanted him to have everyone leave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I decided it was time; we needed to be alone with our kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everyone quickly exited and we were left with Amanda and Luke and the Youth Pastor. At least I think that is all that was there; my memory is a little weak at this point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Youth Pastor said he would be back in the morning to work through all the details and we thanked him and watched our Knight in Shining Armor walk out the door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We hugged our kids, cried with them and shared what we knew, acknowledged that it was real and then we all went our separate ways to bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seems odd now that we didn’t cling to one another longer, but we were exhausted and needed time for the reality to settle in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That first day was drawing to a close.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tom and I crawled into bed and wrapped our arms around each other and wept.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I imagine we fell asleep at some point but then I awoke and could not fall back to sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I crept down to our couch and laid there thinking, pondering, praying, processing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Scriptures of God’s faithfulness were swimming through my mind; “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">All things work together for good to those who love God and are called according to His purposes</i>”, “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I know the plans I have for you, to prosper you and not harm you…</i>”, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and I was being faced with the reality of what I still believed. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I pulled out my computer and started going through pictures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There has never been a lack of pictures of Ryan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His life sat before me on the screen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then I knew; I was going to have to journal this road we found ourselves on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Through my journaling God was going to show himself and I was going to find answers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had never been one to journal but I felt deep inside that it wasn’t even an option; I was going to write about how God was going to make it worth the pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was going to choose to trust Him and believe that in that trust He was going to resurrect my broken heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was Easter day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"> It is a year later now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The anniversary of Ryan’s leaving us is actually April 7, but the memories will always be wrapped around Easter. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This first Easter is excruciating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The pain is deep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But we are moving through the weekend, purposing to continue to step forward and allow God to wrap his arms around us in the truth of the weekend; <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">death equals life</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Ryan is experiencing the Life we long for; everlasting life in Paradise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is his ending/beginning not because he lived a good life, but because he was a sinner and received Christ as his Savior.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He knew he couldn’t enter heaven on his own merit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He knew when Christ died on the cross He was dying for him, Ryan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="text"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><sup><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">21 </span></sup></i></b></span><span class="text"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> Philippians 1:21<sup><o:p></o:p></sup></span></i></b></span></div>
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<span class="text"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><sup><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">8 </span></sup></i></b></span><span class="text"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—</span></i></b></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"> <span class="text"><sup><span id="en-NIV-29239">9 </span></sup>not by works, so that no one can boast.</span> Ephesians 2:8-9</span><o:p></o:p></i></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“He saved us, not because of the righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He washed away our sins, giving us a new birth and new life through the Holy Spirit. <sup>6 </sup>He generously poured out the Spirit upon us through Jesus Christ our Savior. Titus 3:5-6<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5teKRtV8yRc/UVb0hBDhuzI/AAAAAAAAAhQ/fH94dnIjC_E/s1600/Easter+equals+life.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5teKRtV8yRc/UVb0hBDhuzI/AAAAAAAAAhQ/fH94dnIjC_E/s1600/Easter+equals+life.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">So on this Easter we mourn our son, but celebrate God’s gift to us, Salvation. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, we celebrate Ryan’s choice that allows him to live eternally with his Savior.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have made that same choice and know I will see him again, just not yet.</span></div>
</span> </span> </span> </span> </span> </div>
Gail Wahlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05776535517966926135noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889777764335957296.post-22225086414337890192013-03-24T13:47:00.003-07:002013-03-24T19:40:32.552-07:00Easter will never be the same............<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f-yMGxOIchs/UU9dhUcofoI/AAAAAAAAAg0/1wInX1kkmac/s1600/crosses.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f-yMGxOIchs/UU9dhUcofoI/AAAAAAAAAg0/1wInX1kkmac/s1600/crosses.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">It is a week from Easter. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We did not celebrate Easter last year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It came and went and my Easter candy for the
Easter baskets and the meal I had bought to prepare lay untouched for
weeks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I honestly didn’t even realize we
had missed it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Last year, even though Ryan left us on April
7, it was the day before Easter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">As we near this Easter and the anniversary of Ryan being
gone for a year, I wasn’t sure how I would feel about Easter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was kind of letting it just “happen”
without trying to put feelings around it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But something amazing has happened; I
went to the “Thorn” production (the telling of the story of the Cross) at New
Life church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have been before and found
it powerful, but this time I went mainly because someone had given us free
tickets and my daughter really wanted to go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Oh what a silly woman I am to not have had the forethought that it might
be rough.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Scene one, this precious little girl comes dancing down
the aisle and stops at my row to dance before me; at least that is what it felt
like.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Beautiful music reflecting God’s
glory filled the auditorium and this little one dancing for her Savior. My eyes
began to moisten. The story moves quickly as Adam and Eve descend from the
ceiling and the actors move through life before Christ, his birth,
his death and then resurrection. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I was stricken by the miracles Christ performed before
his death; one in particular when He raised the little girl from death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When she came to life and the crowd roared, my
mind immediately went to the thought that God could have saved Ryan from his
fall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m sure He saved him numerous
times throughout his life; why not this time?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Why did He choose to save this little girl and not my son?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then the narrator (the disciple John) spoke
of his favorite miracle; his own salvation and rebirth in Christ.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The pit in my stomach began to fade and my heart
began to warm as truth began to settle over me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>God did not perform the miracle of saving Ryan, but He has been
performing miracles in many lives because of Ryan’s life and death; changed lives
for Christ.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Isn’t that what living is
all about? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ah, the miracle of a new Life
in Christ.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Scenes continue of Jesus walking as we do, reminding me He
experienced pain and suffering and temptation, yet kept the bigger picture in
mind and did the hard things for the greater good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The scene at Gethsemane reminded me of Jesus’
humanity; He anguished in prayer with sweat drops of blood as the demons and
angles battled. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="text"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Luke
22:41-44 “He pulled away from them about a stone’s throw, knelt down, and
prayed, “Father, remove this cup from me. But please, not what I want. What do <span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">you</span> want?” At once an angel from
heaven was at his side, strengthening him. He prayed on all the harder. Sweat,
wrung from him like drops of blood, poured off his face.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">”</span></i></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I imagined this battle happening daily in my life as I
make my choices of joy or sorrow, anger or peace, truth or lies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The visual of angles fighting the battle with
me gave me confidence to continue to purpose to defeat the enemy daily.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I purpose, he will not win. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">One of the most heart wrenching scenes was Christ being
tortured; tortured to save my soul.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
knew this was coming, He chose that pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He could have stopped it at any time; but He didn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He went to the cross for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He took my sins upon him and laid them there
upon the cross. The truth of that often gets dulled in my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But this Easter, I think the reality of it
will be so much more powerful; I needed to be saved, and He saved me! He saved
Ryan and now Ryan is living out that eternity with His Savior.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">My heart nearly popped out of my chest when the scene arrived where Jesus rose from the grave. The crowd began to dance with jubilee and Jesus was greeting and hugging everyone in delight. </span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> A little one ran up to Jesus and He
swirled her around in pure joy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I imagined that kind of entrance for Ryan, pure delight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jesus reaching for him and saying, “I’m so glad you are home” and
Ryan replying, “I’ve been waiting with anticipation to be here!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I silently sobbed with joyfulness at this thought. That
will be my entrance someday and that of others. I am waiting with anticipation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">There was a song that was played, “Just To Be With You.” It
wrecked me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It had so many meanings for
me; Jesus paying the full price to be with me, Ryan giving his life (he would
have volunteered) so others may find Jesus, me being willing to recognize that
giving up my son has allowed others to find Jesus and draw closer to Him; my
heart soared with emotion.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p><a href="http://youtu.be/Tt4G4becsWs">Just To Be With You</a></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p>(click to listen)</o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"></span> </div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SjUy36CDCP8/UU9hlktcK4I/AAAAAAAAAg8/khb4dNAq_Sw/s1600/Jesus+hugging+us2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SjUy36CDCP8/UU9hlktcK4I/AAAAAAAAAg8/khb4dNAq_Sw/s1600/Jesus+hugging+us2.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">No, Easter will never be the same.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It will be filled with deep meaning as I see myself
in the Story of The Cross; the miracles, the sacrifice, the pain, the substitution, the
Life!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My faith rests in the assurance
that God is still seated on His throne and because of this I can calmly await
the time when I can run into His arms saying, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“All things have worked together for good!</i>”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Romans 8:28.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And I will be home. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The amazing thing that has happened? I am grateful Easter will never be the same.</span></div>
Gail Wahlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05776535517966926135noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889777764335957296.post-7879706374127607672013-03-16T08:01:00.002-07:002013-03-16T08:01:13.686-07:00Pool of awareness.............<br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br />
<o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2A_ksv1JTt4/UUR2PMW2J6I/AAAAAAAAAgA/Ruw33cnrs7k/s1600/winter+fading.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2A_ksv1JTt4/UUR2PMW2J6I/AAAAAAAAAgA/Ruw33cnrs7k/s1600/winter+fading.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">I woke this
morning with a need to work through the feelings that have been swirling
through my heart and mind in the last day or so. Writing has become a way
for me to pull those emotions and thoughts out, identifying them, sorting
through them and then determining what to do with them. It is me slowing
down, laying them before the Lord and asking for discernment and wisdom in the
pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am asking this morning, what to
do with this awakened pain.<u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The last few days have been
warm and balmy and the thaw of winter is upon us. The birds have been chirping
loudly each morning singing the song of the promise of a new day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My Crocuses that pop their heads out with
determination each spring have done so with royal beauty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yesterday I cut and pulled all of the
lifeless weeds around them so that their beauty could be fully seen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a huge pile of snow in the middle
of my back patio that lay upon my outdoor carpet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I shoveled and chipped away at the icy pile
in the morning, hoping to see it melt and then be able to swing on my patio
swing in the late afternoon and take in its peace; it has always been my “happy
place”. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The snow melted and I sat
down with my dinner plate and began to swing.<u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">With each swing my heart did
not find peace, but pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many wonderful
moments were spent on that porch with my precious son; they all came flooding
at me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was on that patio that I cut
his dreads in laughter and disgust. It was on that patio that he strummed his
guitar many nights next to the fire, leading us in worship and laughter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was this time last year that he sprawled
out on the warm patio floor and read one of his thought provoking books while I
swung next to him on my swing with my book; each stopping along the way to
share thoughts and questions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember
thinking how this was the sweet beginning of our adult life together, he was
moving into a new phase of life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a
mom those moments of watching your child move out of one phase and closer to a
maturing, life giving phase are treasurable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I will treasure those moments forever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The memories of those moments are my Ryan now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can no longer reach over and touch that
crazy head of hair, step into that big strong embrace smelling the scent of
Ryan or whack him on the shoulder for an inappropriate comment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am forced to live with memories. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span></o:p></span><br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-59WvQymQOzs/UUSFtKJWVFI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/fE6hzVWvj-s/s1600/pool+of+tears.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-59WvQymQOzs/UUSFtKJWVFI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/fE6hzVWvj-s/s1600/pool+of+tears.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">For almost a year I have been
preparing for the reality of living without Ryan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has been a preparation of truth for the
truth of death is not something our minds can comprehend instantly; it is too
painful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel as though my heart has
been protected by the winter ice, preserving it for the thaw of reality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Spring is here and the sun is warming my
heart and creating a puddle of awareness; each melting drip is a tear of
recognition of what was to what is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
sense that it is important that I recognize those drips, watching each one fall
into the puddle of awareness. As I write those words I feel the truth of
them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is the sentence my heart was
looking for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My puddle will become a
pool of beauty as I allow the past to melt into the future.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-soZ1BSOxnKU/UUSG3jbsSxI/AAAAAAAAAgY/Ij_3OqWt1rQ/s1600/apring.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-soZ1BSOxnKU/UUSG3jbsSxI/AAAAAAAAAgY/Ij_3OqWt1rQ/s320/apring.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><u1:p></u1:p> I feel
more prepared today to receive the thawing of my heart and embrace the beauty
that is ahead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The beauty is
there. It has never left. I just have to keep my eyes open to
see it.<u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></o:p> </span> </span>Gail Wahlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05776535517966926135noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889777764335957296.post-73125988568564477692013-02-25T15:42:00.001-08:002013-02-26T09:41:53.655-08:00Celebrating 21 years.........<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Wud_oF1XJeA/USvyvyUhPHI/AAAAAAAAAfE/TSiYlGR4aO0/s1600/Birthday+Cake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Wud_oF1XJeA/USvyvyUhPHI/AAAAAAAAAfE/TSiYlGR4aO0/s1600/Birthday+Cake.jpg" style="cursor: move;" unselectable="on" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We are soon approaching Ryan’s 21<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">st</span></sup>
Birthday, Thursday, February 28, 2013.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve
heard from many who have gone before me that for a grieving heart, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>birthdays are the worst event to have to get
through.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Consequently, I’ve spent a lot
of time thinking about what Ryan’s 21<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">st</span></sup> birthday might look like. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I must admit, I’m at odds with myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I, once again, feel like a complete misfit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not looking at Ryan’s birthday with a
heavy heart, but rather a heart of celebration that Ryan gets to spend his 21<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">st</span></sup>
birthday with his Creator, the one who thought him into existence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This is how my mind has processed
this upcoming event:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 10pt; tab-stops: .5in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Over 21 years ago God
determined that a baby boy must come into this world with a huge splash and
then continue to make splashes until his early departure from earth at age 20.
This boy would have purpose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This boy
would cause people to stretch their minds and their hearts and leave a lasting
impression wherever he went.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It would
not be easy to parent him because of his unique characteristics but God had
fashioned a couple that would love him well and do everything in their power to
encourage him to pursue a life in Christ; Tom and Gail Wahl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So on February 28, 1992 Ryan Wahl became a
gift to the world at 9 lbs, 15 oz and began his amazing life as the child of
Tom and Gail Wahl.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 10pt; tab-stops: .5in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Ryan was a fun baby and
toddler; always smiling and making it easy to smile back at him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His curly light brown hair, big brown eyes
and hilarious faces made him an easy baby to be around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It wasn’t until Kindergarten, that Ryan began
to really find his will and his own mind; this is when he started fighting the
norms and insisting on being different.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He wasn’t that little boy that sat in his seat quietly and did all that
was asked; he was that little boy that the teacher continually had to find
creative ways to keep busy and focused.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He rarely made it through the week, let alone
the day, without check marks. We still have the little pile of marbles that he
was told to keep in his pocket and when he started getting antsy he was to play
with the marbles instead of bothering his neighbor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These kinds of “tricks” were sought all the way
through elementary school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The word “sought”
is used because there were no tricks that really worked for this little boy who
was designed to think outside those teacher’s little boxes and to move outside
those little desks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gail and Tom were
challenged to figure out how to make this little boy fit within the world’s
boxes; but they would never give up and they continued to love.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 10pt; tab-stops: .5in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Ryan became homeschooled in
Jr. High and Tom and Gail began to see why this little boy struggled with the “norm”;
he caught on quickly while looking like he wasn’t paying attention.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He understood rapidly what others pondered at
length.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was bored with learning and
wanted to move and experience life; learning was a waste of time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As Ryan longed to experience life and got the
deeper things, his short term, in the moment thinking wasn’t quite as
swift.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tom and Gail spent many moments
asking, “Ryan, what were you thinking;” only to be met with a blank stare or drawn
out reply, “Nothing?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was as if he
was saying, “Should I have been thinking?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Many exasperated and embarrassing moments for Tom and Gail ensued
throughout Jr. High and into High School until Gail prayed for God to show them
glimpses of what this young, smart, exciting, fun filled boy who often wasn’t
thinking would become?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was in those
glimpses that God revealed that this young boy, this Huckleberry Finn that could
get others to do his bidding, that could make you smile when you wanted to yell,
that could bring fun when others couldn’t find it, this young boy was going to
be an incredible young man that God would use greatly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These glimpses are what got Tom and Gail through
the tough teen years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every once in a
while they would see the potential and think, “Oh, that’s what it is going to
look like!” The embarrassment began to subside and Tom and Gail began to
embrace his uniqueness and not fight it, as much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They began to see that God created Ryan to be
something different and in that difference there were many treasures. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 10pt; tab-stops: .5in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">A life of Faith was always
at the core of the Wahl household; above academics, above accomplishments, a
saving faith in Jesus and a life that pursued the things of God were the
foundation that held them together and gave them their footing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ryan grasped this foundation even through all
his shenanigans.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When his mind was conflicted
with does and don’ts, his heart was never far from the Lord’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As maturity set in Ryan began to find balance
over what his heart desired; the pursuit of Christ and what his mind battled,
the things of the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ryan wasn’t
perfect when he went to live with Jesus but he had asked Jesus in his heart many
years ago and made Him Lord of his life while in New Zealand with YWAM and his
life had become a pursuit of the things of the Lord. This was evident through
his conversation, through what he read, by how he spent his time, by whom he
spent his time with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 10pt; tab-stops: .5in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Tom and Gail are confident
that Ryan is living in abundance with the One whom he pursued, Jesus
Christ.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is living with the One whom they
introduced Ryan to from infancy on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gail
and Tom accomplished their mission; to raise a child to love God and pursue the
things of Christ so the child could spend eternity with their Savior.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This is how I am processing this
21<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">st</span></sup> birthday for my son.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
plan to celebrate the completion of a job I held for almost 20 years that had
the results I pursued.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, there will be tears, no doubt, but I’m
guessing that any tears of sorrow will be washed over with tears of joy as I
envision my son dancing on the streets of gold with his Savior, the one whom he
pursued. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I want to share an excerpt from
an email I received this week from one of Ryan’s high school friends who was
sharing the impact Ryan’s life AND death continues to have on him:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span lang="EN" style="color: #333333; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Tahoma;">“A couple weeks ago a man was
speaking at my church. He was talking about someone in his life that had passed
away, and he talked about how in heaven time is much different than how we
perceive it here on earth. And he pointed out that to us it might be years
before we get to heaven, but to the person that is there already, it is mere
moments. So if you think about it, Ryan will just be walking in when maybe he
will turn around and see you.<span class="emoticontext2">:)</span></span> Isn't
it so amazing that we have a God that loves us so much, that He would give us
the opportunity to be in His presence, forever.... our lives are but vapors,
the real joy is once we get up there, and all worship at his feet TOGETHER</span></i></b><span lang="EN" style="color: #333333; font-family: "Tahoma","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN;">.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iNRFsrhAcCs/USv2mdlsK1I/AAAAAAAAAfo/rbj0hYkIctQ/s1600/Ryan+looking+back.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iNRFsrhAcCs/USv2mdlsK1I/AAAAAAAAAfo/rbj0hYkIctQ/s320/Ryan+looking+back.jpg" width="232" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I live with the phrase in my
head, “I’ll see you soon, but not yet!” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I imagine Ryan turning and <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>saying soon, “There you are!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is a sweet conversation I play in my mind
and am so grateful that I have the confidence of knowing this conversation can
take place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am grateful my parents
spent the days of my youth modeling a life of Faith in Jesus Christ so that I
could pass that on to my children and can now experience the peace and freedom
of knowing, “I will see my son soon, but not yet!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">On Thursday I plan on singing and
meaning, “<u>Happy</u> Birthday to you Ryan!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<img height="63" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Wud_oF1XJeA/USvyvyUhPHI/AAAAAAAAAfE/TSiYlGR4aO0/s1600/Birthday+Cake.jpg" style="filter: alpha(opacity=30); left: 114px; opacity: 0.3; position: absolute; top: 106px;" width="96" />Gail Wahlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05776535517966926135noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889777764335957296.post-67769247840685587812013-02-06T21:12:00.001-08:002013-02-06T21:12:45.873-08:00Place The Testimony I give you in the Chest,,,,<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-o7Uznsq0QZ4/URMr4ytgDXI/AAAAAAAAAek/6galcc5Vapw/s1600/003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-o7Uznsq0QZ4/URMr4ytgDXI/AAAAAAAAAek/6galcc5Vapw/s320/003.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m pretty
aware that I am walking through another typical stage of grief; the stage where
you feel like you are still wearing a sign on your chest, “My son died.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ask me my story!”, and yet you feel like the
world doesn’t see it anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I haven’t
penned my thoughts lately because I’ve been trying to put this stage into perspective
and allow the Lord to speak discernment and wisdom into it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m thinking it could produce bitterness if I
let it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But bitterness is the last thing
I want this journey to produce.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It has taken
me a while to figure out how to express this step of grief without sounding
like I want attention, or like I’m complaining.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Instead, I want it to reflect the journey of a griever so that understanding
can be received by both the griever and the comforter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is why I’m going to be honest, even if
it is difficult.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">A grief that
is known by others is a bizarre thing; it places you, for a time, in a position
of being noticed and sought after and cared for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are the focus of people’s “crisis
attention”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everyone receives this kind
of attention differently, but overall I’m thinking that most are shored up by
the love and attention of others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is
a time when others come to you; you do not have to seek them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In a world where even the most popular of
people can feel lonely, this “crisis attention” can be very appealing.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Because of
who Ryan was and the impact of his leaving us, we received a lot of attention. God
made it a big event. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I truly did feel as
if I walked around people saw a sign hanging from my chest, “My son died.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ask me my story!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was amazing how often I was stopped and
the impact of his leaving us was expressed. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The news of his death crossed states and continents.
My Face Book was an incredible vehicle for this kind of traffic as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a time of instantly being taken care
of, loved on and sought after and many of our needs were taken care of before we
even knew we needed them; and this lasted for months.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a slow addiction to……what; an addiction
to being noticed, being cared for, to being in the spot light, to not having to
work at friendships, to being covered in prayer?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wow!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That’s not a bad place to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
of course, that all surrounded the core fact that our son was gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We gained an infusion of friends and
strangers in our lives at a time when we lost a big part of who we were.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We gained and lost at the same time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now, we are
ten months down the road and the “crisis attention” is dissipating. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Please hang in here with me as I work through
the next couple paragraphs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hold your judgment
and feelings of possibly being offended until you have heard me out. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The infusion
of friends and strangers has moved on to other crisis and those in greater
need.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am still wearing my sign, but
not as many are reading it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a
day when I realized that I had not heard from hardly any of my “crisis crew” in
weeks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt alone with my sign.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People had moved on, but I was still stuck
with my sign and the reality of my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was left with a need to be seen. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll be honest, there was a period of about
24 hours that I decided I would show everyone; I would stop Face Booking, I
would not blog again, I would not call anyone until they called me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was going to be mad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not sure that even lasted 24 hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The entire time I decided to give into
bitterness, I hated it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could not stay
on that island; I needed to get off!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This was not who God made me to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Bitterness was not to be a lengthy part of my journey. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now that I
made the choice to not be bitter I needed to figure out how to work through the
fact that I felt I would always have a sign on my chest exclaiming my tragedy,
yet my sign will fade from the world’s view as time passes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will become like everyone else; sometimes
seen, sometimes not seen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet, in my
mind I would always stand out because of my life experience. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, I had to wonder if I would always long to
be seen again. I think this is the place grievers can easily get stuck.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I imagine anyone
who has gone through a big life experience feels like their experience almost
goes before them, identifying them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
is almost like a badge of courage; a sense that we earned our right to be
noticed; a right to tell our story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
can’t tell you how many times I’ve met a stranger whether it be getting my hair
done, in a waiting room, in a checkout line, and I just couldn’t wait for them
to bring up something that would allow me to tell them about my story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted to say, “Didn’t you see my sign?” That’s
hard to admit, but true.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have a story
to tell and I feel compelled to tell it again and again. Telling it allows me
to keep Ryan’s story out there, allows me to speak of God’s strength, and if I’m
honest…maybe continue to be noticed? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
think that is the addictive piece.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Then I came
across some scripture…yes, scripture has been the piece that has put everything
in perspective for me along this journey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am reading through the Bible this year through The Message.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I read in <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Exodus 25</i></b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">, “<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Place
The Testimony I give you in the Chest</b></i>.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This verse jumped off the page at me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In this
verse God is telling Moses to put The Testimony in the Chest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Testimony was the law (10 commandments)
and these reflected the mind and will of God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A testimony is declaration or profession of faith and for me it is
declaring that the mind and will of God is good, even in pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Chest was the Ark of the Covenant, a box,
a vessel, me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was to carry The
Testimony. I am no theologian and I am probably taking some license here, but if God's Word has spoken to me and I have taken meaning from it that has brought health and healing to my life, I think God is probalby o.k. with the interpretation.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I have been
envisioning myself walking around with a sign ON my chest for all to see.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But God is telling me stop carrying my sign
and expect others to see it; instead allow the testimony of the sign to live within me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t need to walk around with an outward
sign because I don’t require that kind of attention any longer. I am the vessel;
God’s faithfulness through this journey and what I have become because of it,
is the testimony. That testimony is what will allow me to move forward and not
expect from others and instead start meeting other people’s needs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That testimony is what will allow me to appreciate
all that I’ve been given instead of bitterness for what is no longer here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That testimony will allow me to always be
looking for Wonder instead of finding deficit. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That testimony is what tells me I really only
need to be seen by my Savior for He truly does supply all my needs.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It has only
been 10 months, but, it has been 10 months of God showing me His faithfulness
and strength in amazing ways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I read in
my <u>Come Away My Beloved</u>,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I will
cause the veil to drop, and you will enter a new area of experience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You will be given knowledge in My Spirit that
is not to be found in books.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will
share with you My thoughts, and who can tell the sum of them?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The veil has dropped for me and I have entered a new
area of experience and because of that I no longer need to carry around my sign but rather, I have been able to place the Testimony (my sign)
He has given me in the Chest.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DgASPVXU5VY/URMwCQeKHCI/AAAAAAAAAe0/XgULICPULLo/s1600/testimony.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DgASPVXU5VY/URMwCQeKHCI/AAAAAAAAAe0/XgULICPULLo/s320/testimony.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Grief, no it isn't over. But it has reached the place where I can continue on and focus on the world around me instead of only seeing right in front of me. I am grateful for my "crisis crew" and all those who have touched my life in some way over the last 10 months. There is no bitterness here for what isn't, but extreme gratefulness for what has been and will continue to be as we all live out our own Testimony's in our Chest.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span> </div>
Gail Wahlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05776535517966926135noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889777764335957296.post-50493003464617374992013-01-20T08:02:00.001-08:002013-01-20T12:40:06.479-08:00I say to the mountain, "GO"!<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I have seriously been pondering the
idea of “Faith” for quite a few months now. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve wondered often at the depth of my faith
that has occurred throughout this journey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Why am I experiencing such a deepening of my faith and strength of my
soul during the most difficult time of my life?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It isn’t unusual to see people crumble or falter, at least for a time,
during periods of incredible trial.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So why have I
not experienced a time of crumble?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
makes no sense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am not a theologian, I
am not Bible scholar, I am just me; a mom, a wife, a sister, a friend, a sinner,
a child of God. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Cdd4fZB7noM/UPwT6X9LDGI/AAAAAAAAAeA/ltFOvBCBwm8/s1600/moving+moutnains.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Cdd4fZB7noM/UPwT6X9LDGI/AAAAAAAAAeA/ltFOvBCBwm8/s1600/moving+moutnains.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I say to the mountain, "GO!"</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I have been a woman in need of
something bigger than myself for the “self” that I thought I knew was altered forever
on April 7, 2012.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I became a mom of a 20
year old that no longer had a 20 year old to mother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What do I do with that part of me that had
been so all consuming?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I look back on those first few days
and I see clearly how God lead me, and continues to lead me, through my desperation.
I was reading Romans 4: 19-20 where Abraham had just been told that at age 100,
he and Sarah were going to have a child.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 1in 10pt 0.5in; text-align: justify;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Without weakening in his faith, <u>he faced
the fact</u> that his body was as good as dead – since he was about a hundred
years old – and that Sarah’s womb was also dead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>YET, <u>he did not waver through unbelief
regarding the promise of God </u><u style="text-underline: wave;">but was
strengthened in his faith</u> and gave glory to God.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Abraham
and Sarah’s birthing bodies were dead (they shouldn’t have been able to create
a child); they had been told something unbelievable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>YET, Abraham’s faith did not waver regarding
God’s promise but rather was STRENGTHENED in his faith and he gave glory to
God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had to face the fact that I no
longer had a 20 year old child to mother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am still his mother, but I can no longer do the mothering things a mom
would do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How do I deal with that loss
and find hope? The verse that has plagued my mind from day one is Romans 8:28:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 1in 10pt 0.5in; text-align: justify;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“And we know that ALL things work together
for good to those who love Him and are called according to His purposes.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 4.5pt; text-indent: 31.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I had to CHOOSE
to believe that God meant what he said; ALL things will work together for
good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Good would come out of my time of devastation.
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Obviously I was shaky in that belief
but I chose to go on record that I was going to choose to believe God’s
promises.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Interestingly, I was recently
directed to Mark 11: 22-24 where Jesus says <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Have faith in God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Truly I tell you, SAY to this mountain, GO…”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i></b>I chose to tell “despair” to “GO, I
am choosing faith!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <em>I was declaring not what I wanted, but who God promised He would be for me</em>. </span>I declared it for
all to see through my blogs, and because of that I was going to be held
accountable to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course I didn’t
really know I was doing all of this and this is what amazes me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was walking out the scriptures without
really knowing what I was doing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But my
heart knew what it was dong as the Holy Spirit directed it because back when I
was 7 I took even a greater leap of faith and I gave my life to Jesus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 4.5pt; text-indent: 31.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Giving your life
to Jesus and choosing a resurrected life is the greatest act of faith someone
can take.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Faith is the things hoped
for, the evidence of things not seen” Hebrews 11:1.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Faith takes courage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Courage to acknowledge we need something bigger
than ourselves and in that courageous step we receive, “Life” with a big
L.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is a favorite statement of our
pastor and I love it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want Life with a
big L.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want a courageous Faith with a
big F.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want a walk that astounds me
and others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have that in Jesus.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now that I have
found the scripture to back up what my actions have been through the guidance
of the Holy Spirit, I plan on SAYING to all mountains, GO!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the name of Jesus, GO!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Gail Wahlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05776535517966926135noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889777764335957296.post-87543404217200481692013-01-16T13:58:00.001-08:002013-01-16T13:58:31.636-08:00Can it be?<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Yesterday was Luke's
birthday. He turned 16. It was another first....Luke's birthday celebrated
without Ryan. But the beautiful thing is that my heart was not wrapped
around what we were missing, but rather, what we have. My entire day was filled
with thoughts of joy and peace over the gift God gave us 16 years ago; Luke. Can it be? Can I be healing?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UBpwFxi3Tjc/UPcUWco6EnI/AAAAAAAAAdE/zLd9zTlXCs8/s1600/Luke%2526Mom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UBpwFxi3Tjc/UPcUWco6EnI/AAAAAAAAAdE/zLd9zTlXCs8/s320/Luke%2526Mom.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span id="goog_1947241087"></span><span id="goog_1947241088"></span><br /><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><o:p><span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><o:p><span style="font-family: Verdana;">After a child dies, it would be easy to walk with fear and caution and try to control what one still has so that we never have to experience that kind of grief again. But honestly.....honestly, I look at Luke and <em>my arms are wide open to the Lord</em>.</span></o:p></span>
He is the Lord's and I have the privilege of being his mom. He isn't mine to control and manipulate and craft into being what I want him to be; he is mine to nurture and love and help become all God designed him to be so that he can carry out God's plan for his life. This is such a freeing concept. It takes the stress of perfection, accomplishment and control out of the equation. I learned this throughout Ryan's life and God has fine tuned this thought process through his death.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</span><div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Yesterday I was amazed at
the freedom I felt from pain. I still had a couple of deep swallowing moments
where my heart felt a longing for Ryan, but overall my heart was actually happy as I
acknowledged that God has my hand. He is walking me down this road and I can
trust Him with the journey. <em>There is good in life AND death when we trust God
for the outcome</em>. This is the heavenly perspective I ask God to help me walk with
each day. This is the stance I have chosen to take; standing with my arms wide open. It keeps the wasteful things
of life from swallowing me up and keeps me in that place of "seeing the
big picture". Honestly, I like this place; this place where "peace surpasses all understanding." </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span></o:p></span>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<strong><em>Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. <span class="text Phil-4-7" id="en-NLT-29410"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><sup class="versenum">7 </sup>Then you will experience God’s <u>peace, which exceeds anything we can understand</u>. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus</span>. Philippians 4:6-7</span></em></strong> </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span> </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">This is where I am today.
I don't know where I will be tomorrow, but I </span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">am trusting God for it and am feeling the healing He promises.
I am walking in faith, trusting God's Word to be true and calling out His
promises. It seems to be working and there is no other place I'd rather be.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong><em>Nevertheless, each person should live as a believer <u>in whatever situation</u> the Lord has assigned to them, just as God has called them.</em></strong></span></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><o:p><strong><em>I Corinthians 7:17</em></strong></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
</div>
</span><div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em><strong><span class="text Phil-4-7" id="en-NLT-29410"></span></strong></em> </div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="text Phil-4-7"></span></span></span> </div>
Gail Wahlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05776535517966926135noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889777764335957296.post-51312809088600691792013-01-01T08:17:00.001-08:002013-01-01T08:17:07.434-08:00Reflecting on 2012
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’m sitting here in the quiet of my
home while all others are nestled in their beds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love these quiet, alone times; they give me
opportunity to reflect, prepare and just be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I have no one expecting anything, I have no sense of being needed; I can
just sit here in the presence of my Savior and “be”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What a better way to start 2013?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As I
reflect on 2012 I have such mixed feelings, and this amazes me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How can I have feelings of sorrow and pain when
I also have feelings of peace and joy?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When I say to my Lord, “You have done some amazing things this last year!”
it is framed with emotions at all levels.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This last year I had to choose to place my entire life in the palm of
His hand and trust the good and the bad to Him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was easy to lie in His palm when my life had very few trials; it was
a much greater task when my life became filled with sorrow when Ryan was taken
to live out his eternity with Jesus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
I made that choice, to put it all in His hands, and because of that I can look
back at the year and acknowledge some pretty amazing things that took place.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I read
II Corinthians 9:6, 10 this morning and was able to say, “Wow!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God you did some amazing sowing with my life
this year.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is why I can look at
2012 with peace and joy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="text"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Remember,
the man who plants only a few seeds will not have much grain to gather. The man
who plants many seeds will have much grain to gather.</i></b></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> ….<span class="text"> It is God Who gives seed to the man to plant. He also gives the bread
to eat. Then we know He will give you more seed to plant and make it grow so
you will have more to give away.</span> <o:p></o:p></i></b></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ic2g5OjHTOY/UOMLKe50_RI/AAAAAAAAAb8/qijzQm-0Zvs/s1600/the-palm-of-His-hand.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ic2g5OjHTOY/UOMLKe50_RI/AAAAAAAAAb8/qijzQm-0Zvs/s320/the-palm-of-His-hand.jpg" width="258" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I gave it all this year (all my
seeds); my sorrow, my tears, my anger, my<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">
</i>confusion, my forgiveness, my hope, my faith, my love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In return, I was rewarded with a deepened
faith and love, a hope that is filled with promise and joy and peace that
surpasses all my understanding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was
also given the opportunity to see countless lives changed (growth beyond
measure).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know these glimpses of
growth are from God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We don’t always get
to see how our lives impact others but God has gifted me with many glimpses so
that I continue to move forward and scatter my seeds of faith.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>2012 did not go as I planned or imagined, but
I have learned that I can trust Him with His plan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, I do not have Ryan sitting next to me as
I planned, but there will be many more people sitting next to Ryan and I in
eternity and isn’t that really what life is all about?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At least that is my purpose and was Ryan’s
purpose in the end; gathering up sisters and brothers for a life of eternity
with Jesus.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="text"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I have
fought a good fight. I have finished the work I was to do. I have kept the
faith. <sup></sup></i></b></span><span style="font-size: small;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><sup><span id="en-NLV-29879">8 </span></sup>There is a crown which comes
from being right with God. The Lord, the One Who will judge, will give it to me
on that great day when He comes again. I will not be the only one to receive a
crown. All those who love to think of His coming and are looking for Him will
receive one also.</i></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> II Timothy 4:7-8</i><o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As I look to 2013 I know there will
still be many moments that catch my breath with sorrow, but in those moments
God will have me in His hand and I can trust Him to get me to the next step and
to experience the next moment of joy as well. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In 2013 I plan on getting my physical self
back in shape, but my key resolution is to keep a heavenly perspective and continue
to scatter my seeds of faith in whatever way He sets before me. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I think about it, what is the alternative?
It’s an alternative I do not want any part of.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span> </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ma98bCaKFaQ/UOMLS1fIUnI/AAAAAAAAAcE/BVebx7QvwkA/s1600/Seeds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ma98bCaKFaQ/UOMLS1fIUnI/AAAAAAAAAcE/BVebx7QvwkA/s320/Seeds.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
Gail Wahlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05776535517966926135noreply@blogger.com1