It's a God-tale...

When asked how we met, I often reply, "He drove in my driveway on his tractor in the middle of a pandemic quarantine!" It's not far from the truth...

I’ve known Andy’s family practically my whole life. He grew up on a farm around the corner from me. Their family bought eggs from our farm. Over the years his Dad crop farmed with my Dad and brother. But Andy and I were years apart in age, miles apart in distance, and lived far different lives…until last summer.

I was ‘supposed to’ be leading a summer mission trip of college students to Western Asia for the 3rd summer in a row. But due to the cancellations and shutdowns from COVID last spring, our trip was cancelled, and I was working from home on the farm. My Dad was unexpectedly diagnosed with cancer that spring, so working from home allowed me the flexibility to take him to his doctor’s appointments while also helping my brother on our family’s dairy farm.

Meanwhile, Andy and his Dad were graciously helping my brother in the fields all spring – plowing, working ground, planting corn and more. While I was helping on the farm or sitting outside working away on my computer at emails, zoom calls, phone calls and more, Andy was driving in and out of my driveway helping my brother in the fields.

We had occasional friendly interactions and exchanges. In fact, on one occasion he taught me how to drive his tractor as I was helping in the fields. I remember thinking, “Despite his rough exterior, he’s actually a nice guy. And a good teacher!” But he thought a little more. 😉

In mid-July he made his move. After working in our fields one day, he came in the barn as I was milking cows and began chatting. The conversation took a turn as he asked if I was single, and why.

My response? I laughed! Yes, sitting under a cow, I laughed with nervous laughter, so completely caught off guard by his questions and praying my brother would be ready to help me milk and, thus, rescue me from this unexpected conversation!

Then came the facebook friend request. I hesitantly accepted. He messaged me a simple ‘Hey there’. I waited before replying. Within a couple days he asked for my number. Determined to nip this thing in the bud I replied, “I need to be honest with you and let you know that I’m not interested in anything more than friends.” Done. Shut it down. But he wasn’t done. He asked if he could get to know me as friends.

Hmmm… Ok. Just friends. Besides, I’ve been stuck on the farm in quarantine for the past 4 months. The idea of going to a restaurant for a meal with someone besides my family sounded really inviting. If nothing else, I’ll get out of the house, enjoy a good meal and talk to him about Jesus! I did all that. But I also began to hear and see and start to know someone that before I only knew ‘of’.

Although I told him I wasn’t interested in dating, only in friends, he never stopped pursuing from that day on. He continued helping our family on the farm as I continued getting to know this new friend, and his family, and, when he had them, his 4 kids. (Yes, 4 kids.)

A month later I unexpectedly lost my Dad to a major stroke. He came to church with me that Sunday, and again to my Dad's service, and he never stopped showing up. He was a faithful, patient friend through the loss of my Dad. As he began walking with the Lord, I began seeing a changed man that might one day be more than a friend to me.

He waited for me.

In mid-October we began dating…officially. To be honest, he asked me out 8 times over the course of those first 3 months and I turned him down each time (apparently he was counting!). But this time, I told him to ask me out yet again, assuring him I would say ‘yes’! I guess 9th time’s a charm?! 😉

While Andy was confident that he wanted to marry me from the very beginning, I was unsure. I needed time to date to get to know each other further, and sort through my questions and hesitations. And I was still very much grieving the loss of my Dad and sorting through my life that felt as though it had been turned upside down so abruptly.

At Christmas he gave me a ring. At first, I was caught off guard, but he reassured me it was not an engagement ring, but a promise ring. “This is my promise to you to always cherish you,” he said to me. We spent the day together with his kids and dinner with his family. I had a taste of what the future could look like together.

The following months were filled with more dates, more future conversations, time spent with his kids on visiting weekends, and time with both of our families. As spring approached, I knew I would be leaving mid-May for 7 weeks in Ocean City, NJ for a Summer Mission trip for work. I knew I couldn’t expect him to wait forever, and I sensed we would be engaged or going our separate ways by summer.

By mid-April I was fairly confident I didn’t want to do life without him. I knew I could – I had been single for 44 years! I knew how to do the single, independent life. But I grew to love this man, and his crazy kids, and wanted to see where God would take us together.

Thursday morning, April 22nd, Andy called and asked me to come over to the farm (around the corner). I finished milking cows that morning and had a video call for work in about 30 minutes. “Just come over real quick,” he said. I jumped in my car, hair on top of my head, sporting my hoodie, vest, yoga pants and tennis shoes and headed over to his farm thinking in the back of my head, “surely this isn’t IT…is it?!!”

I walked in the barn as he motioned me to follow him into the milk house. With just the 2 of us, and his dog, he whipped a ring box out of the front pocket of his hoodie, got down on his knee, and asked me to marry him.

To say I was caught off guard and in a bit of shock would be an understatement. But once I snapped out of the shock, I said “Yes!” And shortly after, I jumped in my car and raced back home to make my video call, laughing, and staring at my hand the whole time!

Andy pursued me persistently, yet respectfully and patiently, and he still does. Through all my ups and downs, my questions and hesitations, even rejections, as well as the grief of losing my Dad, he has been steady and faithful. There are so many things I admire about this man. But mostly, He points me to Jesus in the way that he so faithfully and unconditionally loves me. His love for me is a tangible reminder to me of God’s faithful, persistent, patient, unconditional love for each of us.

Last year I unexpectedly lost the most constant man in my life when I lost my Dad, and I was heartbroken. But in the midst of that loss, the Lord so kindly ushered in a new constant man in my life. I don’t deserve it, yet He graciously gives us, His children, good gifts.

While I celebrate marrying Andy and beginning a new life with him, I also grieve planning this celebration without my Daddy by my side. But we will honor his life and my parents’ 60 years of a Christ-centered marriage as we will begin our married life together on their anniversary, October 2nd.

So like I said, he drove in my driveway on his tractor in the middle of a pandemic quarantine and started pursuing me! It may not be a fairytale, but it is a God-tale - truly a story only Jesus could write. A story full of God's power, healing, redemption, and hope. And I look forward to the chapters He is writing for our life together as husband and wife and as a family.

To be continued...

Stuck in the mud...

"EVERYONE OUT!!!" my teammate shouted to all of us after bursting in the door of the cottage. It had been pouring rain, and some hail, all day. Now mud and debris from the mountain behind us were flowing down the drives between the two hotels and multiple cottages of the resort where we were staying.

Our team headed to this beautiful resort in the mountains for a weekend team retreat in mid October..."encouragement and refreshment" were the goals of the weekend. Friday was beautiful - a sunny, cool fall day. The resort was beautiful and the mountains surrounding us were full of lush green trees with hints of yellow and brown; maybe not like the color of the Midwest or the east coast, but for here it was still color!

But now it was nearing 10pm on Saturday evening. Many of us were still hanging out in one of the cottages, talking and playing games when we were abruptly interrupted with this sudden evacuation. Everyone was told to immediately head to the hotel just up the hill, where some of us were staying. It was still raining - mud now flooding the drives of the resort and some yards surrounding the cottages. Some quickly gathered their things and left, rushing to their cottages to retrieve their things and head to the hotel. Others of us waited and watched the waves of mud and debris rush down the drive until someone was able to drive us through the mud and up the hill back to the hotel.

Some, like myself, simply had a car ride to the hotel, relatively uneventful, just wet and a little muddy. Others trudged through the rushing mud attempting to get back to their cottages on foot while men were yelling and instructing guests to stay away from the cottages and go to the hotel. Women and children were urged to leave their cottages and get to the hotel. In fact, a few members of our group were simply rushed into a car and taken to the hotel, driving through rushing mud only to watch a small brick retaining wall burst open from the force of the mud right before them.

It was dark, it was rainy, it was muddy, and while some thankfully slept through it all from the safety of their hotel rooms, for others it was total chaos. After a long night, the next morning it was still raining, but thankfully the mud stopped flowing from the mountains behind us and now only water washed down it's course.

It was like nothing I have ever experienced before and nothing I ever want to experience again.  But I also learned some things from being stuck in this mud...

Often we might feel like we get caught up in the storms of life. At different times the storms are more or less chaotic, maybe even traumatic. For some of us, we are just waiting on a ride to take us safely across the flowing mud and debris. But for others, we might be caught off guard, needing to gather all of our belongings at a moment's notice. Yet for others we are actually trudging uphill through the rushing waters, mud and debris trying to get to safety with our loved ones.

Life is unpredictable. One minute we can be enjoying good food, great company and the laughter of games, and the next minute we find ourselves in the midst of a chaotic and even frightening storm.

Thankfully there is One who is always constant and always present even in life's storms...Jesus. In fact, He allows the rain to fall and the storms to come, yet He also holds the power to stop the rushing mud. He is constant when life is not. And more than that, He doesn't leave us to trudge uphill through the mud alone! He has not only given us the gift of Himself, but He has also given us each other to persevere through the muddy waters and storms of life together.

Honestly, sometimes we aren't very good at this as a Church. The truth is, we don't really like mud. We don't like to get dirty. Or maybe I should say, we don't like to admit that we are dirty or to allow others to see it. We definitely don't like to walk into others' pristine house with our muddy shoes on. But let's be honest, haven't we all trudged through the mud and storms of life at times? Wouldn't it please and honor our Father if we helped one other through life's storms and muddy paths, pointing one another to Him, reminding each other of truth each muddy step of the way?

So I pray that we, as followers of Jesus, might continue to draw nearer to Jesus while we also draw nearer to one another. I pray that when we see a sister or brother stuck or trudging uphill through the mud, we would stop to help them through the storm. I pray that we would be willing to enter into the mud and walk alongside one another even if that means we also get dirty, or at least be present as our brother or sister works their way through the mud.

Sometimes, when we are in the midst of the storm or feel stuck in the mud, we just need to know that we're not alone, that someone is waiting out the storm with us or helping us get unstuck. And sometimes we can be the hands and feet of Jesus that others desperately need in their storms of life.

Are you caught up in a storm of life? Do you feel stuck in the flowing mud and debris of the storm? If so, where is Jesus in your midst or what is He saying to you, teaching you in this time? What or who do you need to help you through this storm, to remind you that you don't have to do it alone?

Or are there others in your midst in a raging storm or stuck in the mud? How can you enter in and be present with them in their storm? How can you be the hands and feet of Jesus to a brother or sister or to the hurting world around you in their storms of life?

January 27, the day I took risks...

January 27th. Just another gray, cold winter day in Ohio, right? For me, it's a memorable date on the calendar. A date that I took risks...twice...20 years apart...

5 years ago, January 27, 2016, I took a risk. I did what I once thought was impossible. After nearly 11 years in Indianapolis, I packed up my desk, moved most of my belongings to a friend's garage, packed a few suitcases, said my good-byes and boarded a plane to head back overseas for the year.

The year prior to that I was planning to finally purchase a house in Indianapolis. I loved living in Indy. I loved my fellowship and community there. I loved my job and ministry, and the people I had the honor to work alongside. I was leading a team. I had a position of leadership and influence, a 'voice' into the way we were shaping our internship program both regionally and nationally for our organization. I was growing in confidence as a leader, and could actually see myself continuing to lead.

But in a crazy turn of events I sensed the Lord nudging me to step out of my norm, out of my 'stability' and head back overseas, at least for the next year. If I made this decision to go overseas, I would have to give everything up with no guarantee of it being there when I returned. On top of that, I was 38 and single. I would return to the states just a few months short of my 40th birthday. This surely would put to death my hopes and dreams of being married by 40. I knew there was no guarantee of that happening even if I stayed in Indy, but this decision seemed to put the nail in that coffin.

I would have to hold my job, my future, my desires, hopes and plans in open hands before Him, allowing it all to be removed.

I wasn't going to a new place. I had lived there before, but it was nearly 11 years earlier, so the people and many things of the city would be new, or at least different. Besides that, I left this place and returned to the states, moving to Indianapolis, because I was crashing personally. I had to leave due to health and other culminating issues. After more than 10 years in the States I was healthy in so many ways!

What if it comes back? What if the health issues rear their ugly head again? What if I begin to battle the dark, frightening symptoms of depression and anxiety again? Can I do this? Will I be able to do this? There were no guarantees. And I had just given up all I knew back in Indianapolis.

Was it going to be worth the sacrifices? Worth the risks? There were so many unknowns. It felt like one of the hardest steps of faith the Lord has ever asked me to take.

While on the plane that day 5 years ago, peering out the window at the vast skyline, I realized there was another significant January 27th, 20 years prior...

January 27, 1996 I was a freshman at Ohio State attending a student Winter Retreat. I spent the first few months of my freshman year confused and torn in different directions - meeting many new friends, parties, drinking, vying for attention from guys. Yet I also periodically showed up for a weekly Bible study in my dorm led by another student who was patient and persistent with me, inviting me to join her at this retreat. I said yes.

I experienced a different type of atmosphere and community at this retreat. The students read and studied their Bibles, they sang songs, but different from the traditional hymns I heard growing up in church. They seemed to genuinely like each other and have fun together. And yet, there was no drinking. No one was drunk or out of control. No vulgar language. No inappropriate or overly friendly guys. It was different. And I liked it.

I sat on the floor of the meeting room, with my Bible open before me, as I heard the words of 1 Corinthians 6:18-20...

Flee from sexual immorality. All other sins a person commits are outside the body, but whoever sins sexually, sins against their own body. Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies.

In an instant, those words clicked, in my head and in my heart. I still remember thinking, "I grew up in church my entire life and I swear those words weren't there before! Why have I never seen this?!" In that moment, I understood that I had been bought with a price, and that price was the life and death of Jesus, and therefore, my life is not my own - it's His. I can still remember praying something like...

"Jesus I don't know where I stand with you, but I know where I want to stand. I know that I have claimed to be a Christian my entire life, but I don't live like it. I have been throwing my body around like it's worth nothing, rather than one that is bought with your life and death. That makes it invaluable. I want to live like the 'Christian' I have claimed to be all my life. Help me to live like it..."

I grew up in a Christian home, regularly attending church, but I had wandered far from God, seeking to please myself and others. That weekend I chose to begin walking like my life belonged to Jesus and not to me.

That decision changed the trajectory of my life, like beginning to talk about Jesus and His Word with others, even heading overseas and entering into full-time vocational ministry where I could share the Good News of Jesus with other college students, like myself. It's been an incredible journey!

Now here I was, 20 years later, taking yet another risk, another step of faith in this journey with Jesus. As we flew over the city and the plane touched down, I was overwhelmed with emotions - fear, anxieties, excitement, anticipation, relief and pure exhaustion. A few teammates met me at the airport to take me to my small one bedroom apartment that would be home for the year. After they left I looked at the bare, thin mattress, wondering if I had sheets to fit, and then looked to my few suitcases holding all my belongings I brought with me for the year.

As I opened a suitcase I discovered a note slipped in by one of my sisters, telling me how proud she was of me to take this step of faith. I plopped down at the end of the bed, exhausted from the 20+ hour trip, and the months leading up to getting here, wishing I had a nice, warm, cozy bed to crawl into, and the tears began to flow. "What have I done?"

How was this tiny apartment ever going to feel like home? When will my internet work so I can connect with my family and let them know that I arrived? Did I make the right decision? Or was this a huge mistake? Deep breath... "It's going to be okay."

It was so much more than okay. Sure, it was hard. I battled bouts of loneliness throughout the year, but it was one of the best decisions I have ever made. It was more than worth the 'sacrifices' and the 'risks'. I'm beyond grateful I took the risk, yet again.

If there had not been a January 27, 1996, there would not have been a January 27, 2016, 20 years later.

Both times, I took risks to trust Jesus.

And it was worth it. No retreats. No regrets. I would do it all over again, and I do. In fact the songs Do It Again and Goodness of God have both become sweet prayers and reminders of His great faithfulness and goodness, especially as I look back over the years and the steps of faith He has called me to take.

When Jesus calls you to take a risk, a step of faith, or a blind leap of faith, and you walk in obedience and you do it, He shows up. He is Good and more Faithful than we can possibly fathom or comprehend. Sometimes it feels like you close your eyes and jump, hoping He will catch you, like a child leaping into a swimming pool, trusting their Daddy to catch them. And you know what? This Father - He always shows up when you leap towards Him. And I'm so glad I did!

It's not that I did some great act of faith, but it's that Jesus did the greatest act of surrender and sacrifice, for us! And I just get to be on the journey of faith with Him. It's a journey I never could have written or imagined, and it's still being written. And I know there will still be hard days, unknowns, even sadness or pain on this journey of life, but I also know He is always, ALWAYS worth the risk. So I'll keep jumping. I'll keep taking the 'risks' He calls me to take. Because He's worth it.

The Day We Were Invaded

January 6, 2021. Chaos was erupting in our Capitol, not just in our Capitol city, but in our actual Capitol building. We were being invaded...by us. It almost wasn't real, and yet it was all too real. I looked towards the living room to see my 10 year old niece taking in the chaos coverage on the news. I walked in, sat down beside her and said, "Watching the news?" "Yeah, but I don't totally understand what's happening," she replied as she turned to look at me. I looked into her beautiful black face as her deep brown eyes stared back at me so innocently.

I was frozen in that moment. Her face, her eyes, her voice, the news in the background, everything about that moment was frozen in time for me. I thought to myself, "I want a better place for her. Not this - not what I'm watching happen in our Capitol today. This is not what I want for her."

The reality is that we all experience these events so differently. We have different backgrounds and experiences and pasts that paint the context for what we experience in our present. We hear, listen to, read various news sources. In the following days my head was spinning. I felt as though I needed to fight through the fog and noise of all the voices of various opinions to try to understand - What is going on? What is the truth? Who do I believe? What do I think about this? And more importantly, how do I respond as a follower of Jesus so that others see Jesus in and through me?

A couple days later I read these poignant words from my friend Melody on facebook (and asked her permission to share):

Trauma is real. Racial TRAUMA is real. The events of Wednesday, January 6, 2021 have left searing pain in the minds and hearts of millions of people. Among the communities of Black, Brown, Indigenous, Asian, Multi-racial American people I'm connected to, we are grieving, in shock, hurting at the hypocrisy, sickened, angry and a mess of other emotions.

Seeing the filth that is the Confederate flag, a flag used as a banner of pride while suffocating black people on nooses during lynchings and burning black bodies and cutting off the genitalia of black people during mob-fueled violence by white Americans, seeing that same flag of violence and sedition inside the Capitol building, draped on structures and flown proudly, made me want to vomit.

The trauma of what we are feeling from what we saw Wednesday resurfaces all the prior incidents and horrors of racialized violence and permissible violence in America that we've been exposed to and experienced OVER OUR LIFETIMES.

Check in on your friends and your loved ones in BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, People Of Color) communities.

We are not okay.

The ministry of presence is powerful.

Be present.

Acknowledge with us what happened Wednesday was wrong as h@#$ and be willing to lean in with us in the grimy, gritty, difficult that this is for all of US.

To my BIPOC sisters and brothers, rest yourselves.

Be kind to yourselves.

Take care of your minds, feed your bodies, and protect the peace in your spaces.

Rest is resilience.

Process.

Stay connected in community. You don't have to navigate this trauma alone.

With her words, my friend Melody invited me and others into her experience in such an honest and vulnerable way. I'm still grieved. Still spinning. Still reading, asking questions, listening, learning, processing. Still checking in on my friends, praying for them, entrusting them to the care of the One who fully sees, hears and understands their pain in ways that I will never be able to fully comprehend.

One morning as I spent time with the Lord, I read John 13:34-35:

A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.

I prayed, “Lord, what does it look like for us, brothers and sisters in Christ, to love one another well through this chaos? So well that the world knows that we are your disciples?! Specifically, what does it look like for me to come alongside my brothers and sisters who are different from me, who live this life in a different color of skin, who have different backgrounds and experiences than me? What are they experiencing today and how do I love them well?”

I want to pause and examine my own heart and ask Jesus what He has for me in all of this. "Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. Point out anything in me that offends you, and lead me along the path of everlasting life" (Psalm 139:23-24).

I want to lean into Jesus and ask Him for His wisdom. "If you need wisdom, ask our generous God, and he will give it to you," (James 1:5). I want to consider how I can enter in and love those around me well.

Jesus how might I, how might we Your Church, be Your hands and feet and do our part to help bring Your Kingdom on earth as it is in heaven? Invade us Jesus. Invade our messed up world, and our wayward hearts, with your love, your grace, your mercy, your justice, your wisdom and your presence. Oh how we need You...

Hoping and Waiting on a New Thing

"I have such mixed feelings going into this new year because Dad isn't in it," I wrote on New Year's Eve, December 31, 2020.

I continued, "He's in 2020. There are memories of him in most of the year. But he's not in 2021. I feel like I'm moving forward without him. And I so desperately want to hold on to him. Jesus, help me to release this year into your hands. Help me to release each of those that I loss this year to you."

The following day my phone was flooded with New Year's greetings and messages - texts, emails facebook messages and posts. Many expressed relief that 2020 finally came to a close and looked for a fresh start in 2021. But I couldn't process them - I could barely read them. Instead, I text my sister, "I've realized this past week that I've been dreading the turn of the new year. Everyone has been posting things about being so glad 2020 is over and looking forward to 2021 but I don't feel that way. Dad isn't in 2021. So I don't want to go there. It feels like another layer of loss from him." She agreed. At least I wasn't alone...

2020 holds so much loss, so many unexpected twists and turns, maybe even upheavals. Canceled events, missed graduations, celebrations, conferences, awards ceremonies, lost jobs, closed businesses, moving without being able to fully say good-bye as we might want, and death...lots of death. In my own world, I unexpectedly lost 4 family and friends very dear to me, all unrelated circumstances. And while I understand why so many would be glad to 'put 2020 behind us', there's another part of me that cherishes memories and people that I lost last year, as well as the new lessons and relationships I gained.

First, my dear friend Allison was unexpectedly ushered home to meet Jesus on March 6th a couple weeks following a traumatic brain injury. Allison was one of my first of many friends when I moved to Indianapolis over 15 years ago. She is deeply loved and so incredibly missed.

As we suddenly found ourselves in a pandemic quarantine that month, we also soon learned my Dad was diagnosed with a rare cancer in the lining of his lungs and would need intensive surgery to remove it. The last week of May my Dad laid in a hospital bed an hour away following surgery while we were limited to just phone calls to his nurse and to him to check in on him. That week, May 31st, his only brother, my uncle Roger, passed away. A few days later, while bringing my Dad home from the hospital, we finally let him know about his older brother.

Just a couple months later, while recovering from surgery and regaining strength and energy, seemingly beating the cancer in his body, my own Dad suffered a major stroke in the night. The following day, August 14th, he too left this life and entered into Jesus' presence. To say that we were shock would be an understatement. We were to celebrate my parents' 60th wedding anniversary and my Dad's 85th birthday in October. We still celebrated here, knowing that he celebrated in heaven much more than we could imagine.

And just 3 months after losing my Dad we learned that my mom's closest childhood friend, Linda, passed away following complications from an emergency surgery a few weeks prior. Linda was the maid of honor in my parents wedding 60 years ago. Though she lived on the west coast, she and my mom logged hours on the phone across the miles and years. Linda was at times like a second mom to me. In fact, I just visited her last February at her home in California. How we will miss her.

As I try to begin to process everything from last year, I have found myself telling the Lord, "It's too much. I feel overwhelmed by loss, by change, by grief. I can't even begin to process it all. I don't even know where to start..."

I'm still sad and miss each one of them in different ways, but obviously losing my Dad has been the most overwhelming, especially after living with my parents for the previous year. It's the first time I have lost someone who lived in my home, and there's no escaping the gap they leave at every turn. Every morning I walk down the steps and flip on the kitchen and hallway lights, looking back to the bed where he slept the last 3 years, the bed where I found him the morning of his stroke.

Sometimes I'm still angry and frustrated with the Lord for taking him, feeling like it was too soon, feeling as though I got stripped of something I rightfully deserved. At times I feel like a 3-year old kicking and screaming, pounding her fists on the floor, pleading that what was taken from me would be given back, even though I know in my head it's not possible. But we always want more time, right? As my sister said to me, "A girl is never ready to lose her Daddy."

So as many others are posting their 2020 reading lists and books for next year, or their 2021 goals and visions (which are all very good things), I took time to grieve these dear friends and family that I lost last year.

I thought and prayed through the following 'grief questions' given to me by a dear friend several years ago:

• What do I miss? (What am I sad about?)
• What am I angry about? (It's okay to be angry!)
• What am I learning? (About myself, about the Lord, about grief?)
• What do I need now? (What does it look like to move forward?)

With each one, I asked the Lord, "Help me to release them into Your hands."

Then I spent time thanking Jesus for each of these people in my life and the roles they played. I thanked Him, more than anything, that I know that each of them knew Him and are joyously with Him today. That alone gives me so much comfort and hope! I thanked Him that the reason I miss them so deeply is because I loved them so deeply. I thanked Him for the ways He was present to me throughout the losses of this year - the ways He heard my cries, the ways He ministered to me through creation and through others in my life, the ways He spoke to me through His Word over and over again. Despite my losses last year, He is GOOD - He hears us, He sees us, He takes care of us, He draws near to us. It's in His nature to do so!

As I come into this new year, I'm asking the Lord to help me HOPE, TRUST and WAIT on Him. And in the meantime I am asking Him to do something NEW in my life - to bring new hope and life to my heart and to my soul. Today I wrote, "Lord, help me to hope and trust and wait on you as you do your work behind the scenes in creating new things and new life."

And again, God reminded me through His Word how He is in the business of creating new things and new life. "...Abraham believed in the God who brings the dead back to life and who creates new things out of nothing. Even when there was no reason for hope, Abraham kept hoping..." (Romans 4:17b-18a).

I'm still grieving, and I will continue to do so. I'm still sad. I still miss each of them, especially my Dad. Sometimes I'm still angry or frustrated. Sometimes I have regrets - things I wish I would have done or said. But while I'm grieving, I'm also HOPING, TRUSTING and WAITING on Jesus to do a NEW thing in my heart and in my life. I don't know what that new thing will be or look like, but I can be expectant because I know that He gives good gifts to His children, because He's a good Father and He loves us. In fact, He delights in us and rejoices over us with singing! (Zephaniah 3:17)

Friend, no matter what your losses this past year - events, celebrations, job, community, church, health, or a death - of a parent, grandparent, spouse, child, friend - regardless, know that YOU ARE NOT ALONE! Whatever you are feeling today (sadness, frustration, anger, numbness, whatever), it's ok. And even if you don't see or hear or feel God, know that He sees you. He hears you. He is near to you.

God's Word is full to the brim of promises of His care for us in times of grief. The Lord is near to the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18). He even keeps track of your sorrows and collects all your tears in a bottle (Psalm 56:8).

Even if you can't hope today for the new year, much less tomorrow, I and others will hope for you. I don't hope in the New Year itself, in 2021 - there's nothing magical about a new year, or about turning a page on the calendar. But I hope in the God who promises to do new things, the God who has the power to defeat death. I hope in the God who turns our mourning into joyful dancing (Psalm 30:11). I hope in the God who brings the dead back to life and who can create a new thing that has yet to be.

And so I will hope, I will trust, I will wait on Him to do a new thing.

What new thing do you want to ask God to do for you this year, or this day?