Betsy, breath and bones

Ah, my dear friend was finally freed from all her suffering today, once and for all and for always. But my heavens doesn't it ache. 

Praying for Betsy has become the Ayars family way. Every family devotion in the morning, every bedtime prayer. Every prayer list, every single day. Always. For almost 3 years. 

I've joked with her along the way that praying for her has gone from our lips and our dinner prayers down to our breath and our bones...praying for Betsy, a part of who we are. In and out prayers. Praying without ceasing. I'm so thankful for the way praying for Betsy has grown and shaped our family.

I'm most thankful for how Betsy has grown and shaped me. Many a time have I asked her what to do with these teenagers! She hosted my struggling-to-celebrate baby shower for Emma and poured in grace. More than once she has shown up unannounced with a crate of berries and mangoes for the Haitian kids and plopped down for an hour of laughter and tears. We'd go to breakfast and stay 'till lunch, she showed up several times at events she had NO interest in simply because we needed a person to show up for us, I sat in a gas station parking lot for an hour in the rain as she vulnerably poured out an intimate and very real encounter with the Lord, she brought me a bowl she was certain the Lord told her to bring me (which I will cherish always). 

She brought me blueberry bushes when Dad died, something beautiful and provisional to carry on, dinner when Nora was in the hospital, again when Emma was, always with fancy desserts...and we never had a conversation that wasn't meaningful. She made it meaningful. The point was meaningful. She never chatted to fill the space, but used her life to meet yours and pour in Jesus. 

Betsy was never afraid to face the pain, to share her pain, or to step into mine. She saw the places I was hurting, and brought light in. She never seemed to worry about saying the right thing...just pointing to Jesus in it, and sharing what He was sharing with her. Betsy wasn't worried about showing up the wrong way, just sitting with you. She also wasn't worried about sharing HER pain the right or comfortable way. Just allowing you the sacred space of carrying it with her. Never apologizing for pain or tears. 

The last time she came, her face was glowing. Visually. It's like the closer she came to Jesus and to leaving her failing body, the more she looked like she'd been with Him. I told her and tears sprang to her eyes. She knew.

He rejoices over her unabashed wholeheartedness in painful places few dared to go.

That's a rare dear friend. And sitting with her, carrying her burdens, praying in my bones, often without words, asking the Lord for and believing for the things she was asking and believing for...was such a sacred privilege. Betsy was really good at running to the sound of pain and pointing out Jesus was already there. 

ALL the healing Betsy was believing for is finally HERS, every ounce. The Lord never failed her and never will. 

Pray with me for her husband, parents, children and friends...in just a moment we'll be with her.

I'll carry her on, in my bones and I hope, in unabashed love. 

listen

It sure was easier back home in Haiti writing about what I was learning!  I was spanning cultures, languages, circles, experiences...making them easier to share.

Here, it all overlaps, and I just can't share as freely what I'm learning, what the challenges and gifts are, how I'm growing and how it's going. Writing's always been how I process, and I've just not been able to do it as openly these state-side seasons. 

But Greg Benson's words are always in my mind during hard seasons, with that annoying but gentle smile  on his face after giving me a few moments to vent or bawl:  So, what's He teaching you? 

He's teaching me to listen to Him. 

He is closer than we think...right down IN the nitty gritty. There is One who knows, One who really sees, One who understands and identifies, and it's His breath in our lungs.  In the times we can't explain, in the times we can't defend, in the times we can't fight, in the times we don't even have the words to pray...He is w-i-t-h us. Mighty God. Tender Father. Precious Friend.

And I'm realizing that He's always speaking. It's been such a heavy season that I've found myself talking to Him continually, asking Him question upon question...asking for help, for clarity, for eyes to see. And He has spoken. Again and again. My thoughts have been going down one road, and suddenly a vision of something entirely different fills my heart. With it comes a gentle flood of peace.  Not a million details. Not an answer to all the questions, but here, hold THIS.  

One by one, I have watched the peace He's given me materialize. Many times the last weeks I have told Matt, "I know this doesn't make sense, and I know it doesn't look like it, but I promise He was clear. He is doing such and such, and we've got to trust Him."

And He IS. He's speaking, still small voice, peace that passes understanding, and we SO often miss it because we are worrying / planning / depressed / distracted / self-medicating / panicking.  

And He has given us His Word to feed, sustain and help us...and we're not taking advantage of it. We can't cite it when we don't know it. We can't cling to it when we're not in it. We can't use it if we're not carrying it, and we can't be satisfied by it if we're not eating it. 

I've been awful missing Haiti this week. We were there a year ago now, and all the pictures popping up bring back far more than that visit. I miss the eternal breeze and sunshine and green, for sure, but I miss more the simple (of the village, of the classroom, of life) and the beauty (of the community and the people). 

Problems were complicated...but it made the trusting of the Lord more simple, especially when everyone was always reminding you He could be trusted. I miss the un-rush. I miss the prayers that always included song. I miss the singing and worship that always including dancing and clapping. I miss a lot of very precious people, inventing our own fun and richness, meals that fed so much, time that seemed so much more, jokes and conversations and prayers in two languages. Dependency on the Lord. 

Writing every other night or so when the littles were in bed.

http://mshaiti.blogspot.com/2017/09/expectant.html

He's the End

I haven't meant to be so absent, but have had two separate colds, a quick family getaway, a college tour, an Ecuador presentation, a Roman soldier day, Ash Wednesday and a lot of normal life in there! Whew. 

My big prayer for stepping away for the weekend was rest for Pastor Dad, and GOOD time with Lily and Sofie...between school, work, cheer and friends, it is SO hard to come by. He met me with walks on the beach with Lily, nights in the hot tub with Sofie, a Sunday off for Matt, and precious time with all the kids...SO needed and thankful.

Without fail, stepping away from daily life and running to where the land ends and the sea begins always puts everything in priority. At the end of the earth, we sit and think and see and remember that HE is the end. That He holds it. That HE is the one telling the waves where to stop. That His is on the throne. 

What I was NOT ready for was all the emotions that came with starting our college tour season. Like, I am NOT old enough, NOT ready, and yet here went my girl-number-one, looking like all the college students, asking questions, walking off...and I realized she's just about there! I groaned to Peggy that I can't be doing college tours AND a three year old, and she responded, "You're young. You'll be find." bahaha. I'm trying.

Another reality that hit me unexpected was just how much my life was shaped by losing mom my freshman year of college. Even as Lily chattered about decorating her dorm room or eating in the cafeteria, so many memories rushed back...and I felt this unexpected sense of my time with her being finished...finished, finished. College for me meant the end of life with my mom. Decorating the dorm room was with her the first time, and alone and just reeling the next several. College life was phone calls and care packages, and weekends taking everyone home for mom to cook...for a second...and then reeling after.  The end of of how and who our family had been. Huge holes of grief speckle that whole sweet four years and being back on a campus and watching mini-me walk the campus just brought back some of that ache, and the realization that subconsciously I keep thinking "off to college" means this is the END. 

and it's not. Not because He has promised me her college years. Or even that He has promised me tomorrow. Because He hasn't. 

But just that He's the end. 

My grief-experience pattern is NOT the reality. He's the reality.

He's the beginning and middle and end, and in HIM our days are. Lily is His, and wherever she goes and whatever she does and however much time I have and whether I can image a future for my kids college-on that I am IN or NOT...He's got it. His hands. I trust Him. His glory. Our good.

It was a sweet day and a healing day and I did cry most of the way home. I'm not ready. 

I don't know that William Carey will be the school...but I LOVE that all these last 14 years of reading every missionary biography out there to my children caught Lily's mission heart for a place founded on William Carey's abandoned life.

 My dear dad's been gone three years this week, and it feels like it's been more like forever. It seems like a lifetime ago since I heard his voice or saw his face. I suppose a lot has happened and changed in the past three years. One of the hardest things this week that I remember also experiencing after losing mom was the realization that very few of the people in our current lives ever met or knew dad. To most of the people in our daily lives, Dad never existed.  Our church is our work and life and ministry and 80% of our community, and Dad never met it, never knew it, was never known. That makes him feel extra far, I suppose. It keeps the Malcolm stories and memories among us so few. 

It fades him.

I hate that. 

And it's not true...he is far more real and as he should be NOW than he ever was among us. Even if Emma doesn't know who we're talking about. Even if I only have a very small handful of people in my life who knew Dad, and an even smaller few who ever knew Mom. It's His reality versus how it feels...and His reality is always the one I'm trying to orient to.  

So I ask the kids what they remember and we eat graham crackers, honey and milk, and I miss having someone to call when we get there safely, someone to bring peace and wisdom to uncertain situations, and someone who called and cared about all the little things with each kid. I miss the man who came when we needed him, who checked on me and then asked to talk to Matt for a while, who always came looking for a to-do list, and the man who always joked after a long conversation that we had "fixed all the world's problems"...and it always felt like we did.

My dad was an imperfect, really good man and dad and grandpa. 

I'm trying to remember until it's all things new and better, and bottomless, and there is no end.

His third way

One morning this week, while the house was still dark and cold and the dear ones were all still sleeping, I looked at the stack of devotionals and Bibles on my desk unopened, and didn't know where to start. I asked the Lord to tell me. 

Lord, I don't know how to do this differently, but I can't keep doing it like I've been. I need you to tell me, like, real specifically, how to handle this painful, complicated situation. Not just be here with me in it.  I need you to SPEAK. I can't handle it anymore. Also can't see any way out of it. So you gotta tell me some third way...and whatever it IS, I'll DO IT.

Ever been there? 

My brain was so blurry and tired in the middle of a too-much week. But the situation I was abandoning to him has been months. Years. At my breaking point. 

I wasn't being in awe or respectful or meek, Lord forgive me. 

But I was being fully abandoned. Fully needing. And fully looking to Him. 

And in the middle of a week of friends surgeries, blueberry cobbler for 70, hosting small group, teenage drama, homeschool, church events, serving in kids ministry, some hard conversations, two days of zoom meetings with the One Mission Society board I am so incredibly honored to serve on, some hard things to carry with Matt...He met me. 

His third way. 

With power and clarity and peace. 

His third way...that way we NEVER see until He shows us...and then it is Absolutely The Solution....that third way that changes our HEARTS, not necessarily our situation..He showed me. 

First, in the designated devotion for exactly that day. Said exactly what I needed to hear as if the author, long dead, knew exactly my situation. Then, in my Bible reading exactly for that day, again, through an author long dead, as if he saw, in verses I've read before, but never like this. And then, through a routine board training I expected to simply "get through", that sliced RIGHT to the heart of the thing and spoke loud and bold and free. 

What I am experiencing, JESUS experienced FIRST.

What has been painful for me, was DEATH for Him. What I have known, He knew far sharper, far better, exactly understands. 

My first peace almost always comes from the realization that the Almighty God understands SO completely and Jesus has lived it SO fully, that I am hemmed in, understood and loved better than I could ever understand..and boldness and courage and comfort and joy meets me there.

My second peace came from His truth. His truth--the one I know but have been overlooking in this situation because I've been clinging to my experience--is truth that CHANGES the hearer. By Jesus and His grace, we ARE equipped to be His witnesses where.stinking.ever we are. WhatEVER situation we are in. WhatEVER difficulty we are facing.  We. Are. Equipped and Accompanied for it. To overcome it. Equipped to look like Him, speak like Him, respond like Him.  What we NEED we HAVE in Him. 

His Word, His Truth, makes what feels like our truth and experience fall to the ground.

That thing you can't carry...bring Him. He's got a third way, and His burden truly is light.  

leave room

 I know I share it every year when I flip my dilapidated copy of My Utmost for His Highest  to January 25th. I'm sharing it again..."Leave Room for God".

Do not look for God to come in a particular way,

but do look for Him.

The way to make room for Him 

is to expect Him to come,

but not in a certain way.

No matter how well we may know God,

the great lesson to learn is that

He may break in at any minute. 

Keep your life so constantly in touch with God

that His surprising power 

can break through at any point.

Live in a constant state of expectancy, 

and leave room for God to come in as He decides.

If it speaks to me every year, I guess I'm wondering why. And I think it's that I forget to be looking for Him.  I get to serving Him and working for Him and trying to love Him...and forget to leave ROOM for Him. forget to be seeing HIS ways...HIS places...HIS leading. 

Everything wasn't easier in Haiti, but that was. Poverty was always shocking me.  Unfixable NEED had me constantly looking for Him, needing Him. Crazy cultural experiences and confusions had me always looking for Him to break through, and I was so at a loss so often that there was room for HIm. 

I've pretty well got it worked out here, and with 43 years under my belt, 20 of them in full-time ministry. Most of the work, I can do and have done a million times. Most of the experiences, I have navigated. And it gets crowded...my mind, the calendar, the spaces...and I forget to look for Him.

Or I look for Him only in a specific way.

MAN do I want to be living a life that leaves room for God to come in as He decides, living in a constant state of expectancy.  

As much as we hate the hard seasons...they ARE the ones where we make the most room...where we go looking for Him, where we don't care how He comes, just THAT.  Just that He comes.

Lord, give us that kind of hunger, that kind of perspective...and in our families, in our churches, in our communities, may your surprising power break through.

sermon link

 If you're looking for some good teaching, Matt is a GOOD teacher...here is the link to some of his last sermons and here to some recent Bible studies, in case you're hungry for more and deeper and not finding it currently. 

Having Wednesday night Bible study, Tuesday night small group Bible study, Sunday mornings...I'm in a season of so much good teaching...it feels like I've always got something the Lord is working on or speaking to! 

It waters all the needs and service and ministry that church also includes....working on kid's curriculum and crafts, teaching toddler Sunday school, practicing for the Sundays I play piano, cooking for surgeries and sickness, hosting small group, helping feed the church family Wednesday nights, weekly prayer meetings, volunteer meetings, and backing up my number 2. 

His Word feeds me and reminds me why...and how...and what.

For all that feels required...He simply requires a heart after His...clean hands, pure heart. 

For all that is stretching, He offers what to let go, what to trust Him with, what to carry lighter. 

For all that could be consuming, His Word consumes first, and leaves the rest dim.

I never want to teach it, pray it, serve it, live it or share it so much that I neglect dwelling in His Word and eating and drinking from it. Never want to get caught serving Him and lose abiding in Him. Never want to have a full ministry calendar and miss HIM. 

and other random thoughts :)

Psalm 107

It's been a long week kicking off the new school year with Matt out of state, Sofie starting at Lily, Hannah and Ava's school, several sick kids and now a sick mama.  Dad's widow, Cindy, came to spend a few days with us and it had been too long! I definitely fell asleep on the couch last night at 7 pm with coughing kids on every side.

But Monday the Lord encouraged me with a Psalm I haven't noticed in this way before... Let the Redeemed of the Lord Say So.

Every single one of us is covered here. 

Give thanks to the Lord

for He is good

His steadfast love endures forever!

Let the redeemed of the Lord say so,

whom He has redeemed from trouble

and gathered from the east, west, north and south.

Now look through the rest of the Psalm, as this faithful declaration of God repeats again and again.

Some wandered in desert wastes

hungry and thirsty

they cried to the Lord,

He delivered them, 

led them by a straight way

Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love

He satisfies the longing soul,

and the hungry should He fills with good things.

Was/Is that you? Wandering? Desert? Hungry?  He satisfies.

Some sat in darkness and in the shadow of death

prisoners in affliction and irons

rebelling against the words of the Lord

spurning the counsel of the Most High.

So He bowed their hearts with hard labor

they fell down, with none to help

Then, they cried to the Lord in their trouble,

He delivered them from their distress.

He brought them OUT of the darkness and the shadow of death,

He burst their bonds apart.

Let them thank the lord for their steadfast love,

for His wonders to the children of man.

Was/Is that you? Sitting in such darkness? Hard, stubborn, imprisoned, rebellious? When they finally cry out to Him, He brings them out and breaks them free!

Some were fools through their sinful ways,

and because of it they suffered afliction

they loathed any kind of food

drew near to the gates of death

But when they cried to the Lord in their trouble,

He delivered them.

He sent out his word and healed them,

and delivered them from their own destruction.

Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love,

for His wondrous works to the children of man.

Was/Is that you? Foolish? Suffering the consequences of it, extended His goodness again and again and not interested? But when you finally looked up, He met you with His gracious healing?

Some went down to the sea in ships,

doing business on the great waters

they saw the deeds of the Lord

they saw His wondrous works in the deep

they mounted up to heaven and went down to the depths

they reeled and staggered like drunken men

and were finally at their wits end

then they cried to the Lord in their trouble,

and He delivered them from their distress.

He made the storm be still,

and the waves of the sea were hushed.

they were glad at the quiet waters,

and He brought them to their desired haven.

Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love,

and His wondrous works to the children of man.

Has this been you? Busy? Living your life, chasing your dreams, doing it all...and not ever at peace? Finally at your wits end? He brings calm to all the storms and finally brings us to the desire of our hearts...Himself.

Every person I am praying for, every place I have been...is in this Psalm. And never does it say, "Finally they cried out to the Lord, and He let them lay in the bed they made." I am just in awe of His goodness to us, His care, His eye upon us, and the way He works wondrously with the children of man. My hope in Him over those I am praying for is strengthened.  

Whoever is wise...let them consider the steadfast love of the Lord.

prayers and fragrance

A few days ago, a dear life-long family friend collapsed and yesterday he died. 

Carl and Mary and Mom and Dad were best friends well before us kids, and there's never been a time in my life we didn't have Carl and Mary in it. They raised us all doing life together, and every camping adventure I've ever done has been with them. Their young son died in his sleep...and then Mom, on Mary's birthday, and then Dad, and now Carl. 

If you've seen me in the last few days, you're thinking I didn't mention it, and I have not. I can't quite find  my voice. 

But this morning, New Year's Day, bright and early, I drove Lily and Leah to a church we've never been to in a town we've never been to. They are off to Passion Conference with Louie Giglio and David Crowder and Jackie Hill Perry and Kari Jobe and 65,000 18-25 year olds....and a friend of a friend youth pastor.  Some brave girls, these two! 

As I was driving home in the chilly sunshine, I was praying for Lily, turning 17 tomorrow in some stadium in Texas worshiping the Lord with a multitude of young people. As I drove I was praying, praying for this generation, praying the Lord would minister to their hearts. Praying for my girl. 

"Lord, I'm trusting You with her!" I warned. 

I instantly heard Him laugh at me. 

She is mine. It is I who is entrusting you!

Yes. 

Yes, Lord.

And without meaning to, my prayers choked in my throat and turned to the heaviness.

But Lord. Dear Mary and Liz, Lord. Lord, dear Carl. 

No words. 

It is Carl who is mine. All these people you love are just ahead at my throne, it is I who is entrusting you. 

Heaven is so close. His throne is so close. These days are so borrowed and limited and numbered. 

I'm starting this new year catching the fragrance of heaven.

And unlike here...there are no traces of bitter in the smell. Only sweet.

When we think seriously about what it will cost us and others if we obey the call of Jesus, 

we tell God He doesn't know what our obedience will mean. 

Keep to the point--He does know. 

Shut out every other thought and keep yourself before God in this one thing only--

our utmost for His Highest. 

Are we determined to be absolutely and entirely for Him and Him alone?