Perfect Love - Hannah's Story Part 8

Hannah's Redemption Story

Part 1

Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7

Perfect Love

Part 8

Life without purpose.  Or passion.  

Is it a life worth remembering?  Reliving?  Retelling?

Are the sordid memories worth anything more than to bring shame and guilt?

I lived those years.  I have those memories.  I feel that shame.  And while I find no glory in reliving or retelling the sins of my past, I must recall them if only to remind myself of where I once was.

As John Newton proclaimed in his timeless song, I too can say that I once was lost, but now am found.

Too many people find themselves in the same places I’ve been.  Too many feel the relentless pain of the ache deep within - the ache that begs to be loved.  Too many search for ways to fill that void with imitations of the real thing.

I know this to be true.

After the birth of my son, I gave up.  I no longer cared about anyone or anything.  I had wasted too much of my life offering up myself as a sacrifice in an effort to gain the love and approval of the men in my life.  And I was done.

My expectations for others had been faithfully crushed through my life and I was certain the only person I could trust was myself.  So I partied.  And I partied hard.  When you don’t care, you don’t care.  And I no longer cared.  

I met another man, Thomas.  His love for me felt genuine, but still I wondered.  I had been used and abandoned so often before, what made Thomas different?  I was convinced in my heart of hearts that the day would come when he too would reject the little girl in the garden.

So try as he might to win my heart, I refused to allow myself that vulnerability again.  By appearances, my life seemed full of happiness and golden days, but deep inside I knew the reality of darkness.

And then, one morning, I woke up.

I remember stirring slightly, confused by my surroundings.  Memories from the night before were hazy at best.  I turned over and stared into the face of a stranger.

I was stunned.  

I stumbled out into the morning light, confused, shaken.  Disappointed and ashamed. How had I allowed myself to get to this point?  This was not who I wanted to be!

For so long I had believed I was the only one I could trust, and, now, even I had let myself down.

Thomas was gone when I walked in the door of our tiny apartment.   I didn’t mind.  Somehow I knew this was a moment I needed alone.  I sat down at the kitchen table, head in my hands.  What had I done to get to this place in life?  How had I let things get so... so out of control?

The woman sitting here, was not the woman I wanted to be.  Memories flipped through my mind, pictures of days gone by.  The little girl in the garden, watching for daddy’s arrival.  Then... watching him drive away.  Scene after scene played out in my mind and I began to see a pattern.  A constant need for acceptance... approval... love.  I simply wanted to be wanted, I just ran to different sources to get it.

I had turned to God from time to time in my life, but always feared His rejection of me as well.  After all, when I considered all I’d done wrong, I wondered what Almighty God would find in me that was right!  But in that moment, there in my tiny kitchen I felt His presence.  I knew He was with me.

A verse I’d memorized as a child filled my mind, and I melted.  “There is no fear in love.”  Somehow I knew God was speaking to me.  “There is no fear in love, Hannah.  Perfect love casts out fear.”

There was more to it, I was sure of it.  My Bible was in the night stand drawer next to my bed and I retrieved it quickly.  The concordance was my friend and soon I had found it.  1 John 4, verse 18.  “There is no fear in love.  But perfect love drives our fear, because fear has to do with punishment.  The one who fears is not made perfect in love.”

I stopped.  Perfect love.  The love I had searched for from so many.  The love that was unattainable.  It was here before me, freely offered.  I had run from God for so long.  After all I had experienced in my life, I was sure that He too would find me flawed... undesirable... unloveable.

Tears filled my eyes and I began to cry.  Perfect love.  This love from God was not a cheap imitation.  I had placed such high expectations on the approval of my father, yet here, my Heavenly Father stood waiting, longing for a relationship with me!  

Me!

“I have loved you with an everlasting love,” He whispered.  Again I flipped back to the concordance and soon found myself drinking in the love song He’d decreed to Israel in Jeremiah 31, yet somehow I knew it was for me as well.

“I have loved you with an everlasting love.  I have drawn you with loving-kindness. I will build you up again, and you will be rebuilt, O virgin Israel.”

His words were a balm upon my soul, soothing the fiery wounds I’d carried so long.  I didn’t know how to pray, or what to do, so finally, I dropped to my knees there in the warmth of the morning rays drifting through my kitchen window, “I need You, Jesus.  I want You in my life.  Please, Jesus, pull me out of this pit of misery and pain, and help me learn to trust in Your love for... for me.”

I knelt there for some time.  Weakened from the tears.  Emptied, yet bursting with joy.  The relief I felt was incredible.  Almost tangible!  

More times than I cared to recall, I had been certain I’d found acceptance and love.   I’d hung on, white knuckled, fearful of the coming rejection.  But this... this was different.

This was a love that required nothing of me, but took all of Him.

It was pure.

Undefiled.

It was perfect love.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Note: Through the following weeks, we will walk through "Hannah's" journey as she continues to search for acceptance and meaning in her life and her story will conclude on June 10th at Firm Foundation Ministries - my home church. Hannah will be coming to reveal her true identity as well as testify to the grace of God in her life.

I invite you to come, as I know you will be able to appreciate the life that Hannah now lives. She is an amazing person who inspires me daily! Hannah's story conclusion will be posted here as well.

Please feel free to share this link with others. As I've listened to Hannah tell me her story... as I write these words, I am struck over and over again at the importance of father/daughter relationships. I began this series, praying it would encourage young women - teenage women... that it would help them find their value in Christ alone. But the more I listen, the more I write, the more I realize the lesson in here for fathers as well.

If you haven't already, be sure to subscribe to Walking on Water (top right corner), and plan to join us each Monday as Hannah's story continues to unfold.

Held Back

My kitchen smells like lysol and smelly socks this morning.  The lysol because my awesome nieces mopped my floor for me yesterday afternoon, and the smelly socks because, well, because life is happening!

Five baskets full of laundry fill my floor space.  I spent some time this morning turning socks right side in and reminding myself that I still need to talk to the kids about how much joy would fill my heart should they ever decide to remove their pants separate from their underwear.  

Sigh.

I love these guys!  They are my life!  My passion!  My purpose for getting up in the morning!

Last night - on our way to Kobe's Spring Program (he's wearing his "Handsome Clothes"

I grabbed a pair of dark-brown-socks-that-used-to-be-white, grimaced at the hardness of the heels and thanked God for the gift of another day to mother these precious souls.

Laundry aside, here's what's on my heart.

Contentment.  Actually, contentment in adversity.

I confessed to treading water several days ago.  I'm getting better.  Feeling stronger.  Rising up again.

But as I rise above the angry currents surrounding me, I'm learning.

In life, it's easy to become discouraged at the lack of progress we experience in life.  How many mothers have told me of the tears they shed over washing dishes... or making beds... or getting pooped on?  Is this really all I'm called to do?

No matter your station in life, learn from this:

This... this scrawny little Impatiens used to look like this:

It was large, leafy and beautiful with a cheery red face smiling towards the heavens.  But before I settled it's roots into the warmth of flowerbed, I cut off the most beautiful parts.

Unfair as it seems, I know that the greatest potential for these little flowers is yet to come.   And the clippings from the Impatiens first growth will fertilize future growth from its new home beneath the soil - so all is not lost.  Were I to allow these tiny plants to keep their current beauty... their growth...  their accomplishments, their full capabilities would remain undeveloped.

What you're called to do today may seem small and insignificant.  Maybe even useless, unappreciated or unwanted.  But it's not.

Be patient in this holding back process, accept the pruning, the watering, the fertilizing (even when it's literal! :) ) and one day you'll recognize within you a new growth and a beautiful life that is beyond imagination.

...don't try to get out of anything prematurely.

Let it do its work so you become mature and well-developed,

not deficient in any way.  -James 1

Treasure Hunting

I can't find it, mom!

Sound familiar?  If I kept track of the minutes hours I spend helping my kids find their stuff, I'm sure I'd be amazed!  

This morning while digging under beds and refolding blankets - all in search of an ever elusive iPod, this memory from quite a while ago came back to me.  Thought I'd share it with you today.

July 10, 2006

Treasure Hunting

I love those that love me, and those that seek me find me.  Proverbs 8:17

It amazes me, really!  I never would have known a six-year-old child was capable of losing so many things!  From shoes to baseballs, golf balls to gloves, a half hour with Tyler, and the possibility of hearing, “I can’t find it”, becomes more and more probable. 

The shoes are usually the first to disappear.  To lose them is one thing, but what Tyler did with his brand new sandals that spring, really pushed the limits. 

We had just plowed up the garden, but hadn’t yet had a chance to plant anything.  Two-year-old Amy and her big brother, Tyler, found this to be a source for hours of entertainment.  I enjoyed watching them as they dug. They were full of ideas and, occasionally, I would stop by the garden and listen to their plans of digging to Thailand so they could visit Uncle Luke and Aunt Amy, who are missionaries down there.  Seeing that they probably wouldn’t be reaching Luke and Amy’s home anytime that afternoon, I returned to the kitchen to prepare supper.

The next morning, I told Tyler to get his sandals on, as we would soon be leaving to buy groceries.

“I can’t find them, mom”, he said.  Groaning at the all too familiar words, I went to help him look for the missing shoes.

“Where did you have them last?” I asked.

“Uhmmm, I think it was out by the garden,” he replied.  Out to the garden we went, where we found a shovel with a broken handle, a rake, a cup from the kitchen, one muddy sock that used to be white, and a sandal.

“Here’s one sandal!” he proclaimed triumphantly.

“Great,” I said half-heartedly, as I looked at the mess in the yard.  “Now, where is the other one?”

Suddenly, his look of triumph changed to one that said “oops-I-might-get-in-trouble-for-this”, as his eyes shifted nervously towards the garden.

I turned my head to see what he might be looking at and I noticed that our one-way route to Thailand had been newly excavated.

“What happened to your hole to Uncle Luke’s?” I asked.

“Well, we got tired of digging, so we filled it in.” he said.

Hardly blaming him for giving up so quickly, I simply nodded, and continued to look for the missing sandal. 

“Uh, mom?” Tyler said quietly. “I…I think I remember where my sandal is.”

”Ok,” I said slowly, wondering why he looked so serious, “where is it?”

“Well, I… uh… I buried it.”

“You what?!?” I asked incredulously.

“I buried it!” he replied. “Amy and I got tired of digging that hole to Thailand, so I stuck my sandal in there and covered it up.  I think it should be about…uhmmm.. right… right there!”  I stood looking in disbelief at my son, who was pointing in the general direction of the entire garden.

“Tyler, what on earth got into you that made you want to bury your sandal?” I asked.  Shrugging his shoulders, he stood there silently. 

I picked up the shovel with the broken handle and handed it to him.

“Start digging.” I commanded, “I’ll come back out after a while and help you if you can’t find it.”  He dug for a while, and eventually I went out to help him. We finally gave up, went to find some other shoes for Tyler, and set out to buy our nearly-forgotten groceries.

The next day, Tyler and I again headed out to the garden to search for the sandal.  Desiring to be a godly mother who seizes every opportunity to teach her children about God, I decided this would be the perfect time to tell him the story from the Bible of the man who had buried his talent. After the story was over, we decided we must be digging in the wrong spot, so moving to another corner of the garden, we again set to work. 

Soon Bible stories were one of the furthest things from my mind.  All the digging we were doing was producing nothing but a sore back, and an ever-increasing frustration with the foolishness of my child.  Ignoring an inner prompting to pray about the missing shoe, I instead began to expound to my son that “these shoes cost money! And not only that, they were Nikes!  You don’t just BURY Nikes!  Where do you think our money comes from?  Do you think we LIKE to spend money on shoes?” 

Satisfied that my son had learned his lesson, we continued to dig in silence. Just when I was certain the next shovel full of dirt would, indeed, land me in Aunt Amy’s flowerbed, Tyler asked, “Mommy, don’t you think we should pray that we could find my sandal?”

With a sigh, I stuck the shovel into the dirt, “Yes, Tyler,” I said, “we should pray.”  So bowing our heads, we offered up our prayer to the Heavenly Father, telling Him all about the lost sandal and our desire to find it.  And as often happens, several minutes after praying, I pulled the missing sandal from the ground.

Several weeks later, I told this experience with some ladies at Bible Study. One of the ladies, Mamie, shared how this reminded her of an illustration she had heard. 

“When we want to find a treasure, we have to dig.  You can’t always expect the precious gems to just be lying around for all to see.  You have to WANT the treasure, and DIG to find it.  It’s the same way with the Word of God. Sometimes we read the Bible, and we say, ‘I didn’t get anything out of that’, but we have to DIG to find the real treasure, the precious gems.  Those are the verses that become extra dear to us.”

As I thought about what Mamie had shared with me, I realized the truth in it. While I had to use the right tools to find Tyler’s sandal, I have to use certain tools to find the treasures God has for me in His Word.  I began to make a list of the tools that I use. There are many other tools that we can use to find the treasures in God’s Word, but here are a few suggestions.

First of course is time.  Since life gets busy, I don’t always have a complete slot of time to use to study God’s Word, but that’s where the other tools come in handy.

Next – a highlighter.  I have come to love highlighting the verses that stand out to me as I read the Bible.  Sometimes I jot a little note beside them explaining why that verse means so much to me.  Someday, my children will be able to look at the “jewels” in my Bible, and that will be a way for them to see who God is to me.

Another tool is a three by five spiral notepad.  I keep this “tool” above my kitchen sink with precious verses that I want to memorize written inside.  The verses that I didn’t have time to ponder earlier are right in front of me to meditate on as I clean up my kitchen each day. 

The sandal episode unfortunately didn’t change my son’s habit of losing “stuff”. Just recently, he lost not one but TWO baseball gloves!  So looking in my concordance, I grab my highlighter.  I see there are a lot of “treasures” Ty could use that talk about the lost being found.  On the other hand, “spare the rod…” keeps coming to mind, also!  Hmmm...

Prayer:  Dear God, I know that there are so many treasures in Your Word.  Today I want to search for the treasure that You have for me, please, help me to find it.  Amen

Alone... Again - Hannah's Story Part 7

Hannah's Redemption Story

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5

Part 6

Alone... Again

Part 7

“No!  NO!”  A book flew across the room, hit the wall and plunked to the ground.  “NO!” I screamed again through clenched teeth.  “How could you do this to me?”  Anger and anguish melded into one inside my chest, looking for a way to escape.  “How could this happen again?” 

My breaths came out heavy, panicked and staccato.  I shook my head, slightly at first, then allowed myself the pleasure of losing control.  

He left!

He left me!

After all the plans we had made!  He left!

I had quit college.  I had let go of my dreams!  I had given up my passion for sports and for medical school and... and...  All for him!  And he left!

I crumbled into a heap of tears on the bed we once shared.  Never had I plunged so low as I had in that moment.  Never had I hurt so deeply.   When only hours before I had anticipated Mark’s arrival, anxious to share with him the discovery of new life within my womb.

He’d left.

Our wedding pictures had yet to be developed.  My lovely, white, satin gown, so carefully chosen, only three months encased within its keepsake box.

And he had left.

I had stood at the door that night, suffocating with grief.  The little girl from the garden had raced into the bedroom after him, once again searching for the words that could make him stay.  But again, she came up empty.

I didn’t want to stay there at the window and watch him leave.  But the little girl couldn’t pull herself away.  She stood there, unable to stop the tears as the glow of red tail lights disappeared into the night.

Mark had taken my heart and my college fund when he left.  And not only had he left me, he had left me with a monstrous credit card debt that made my head swim.

Hazy memories mingle with recollections that remain clear and focused.  I stumbled through the following days, trying to find my way.  I made peace with God and He sustained me through the months of my pregnancy.

I welcomed my baby boy into my arms one autumn morning.  He arrived much too early and I cried as I watched his little chest fight for every breath.  

My mother was my rock during those days.  She stepped in and helped me with the care of this precious child as I mourned the loss of my marriage and all my shattered dreams.

My life was a mess.

For years, I had fought to bring comfort to the little girl crying at the window, but I was done.

I was undone.  I was broken.  Empty.

I had nothing left to give.

Anger and sorrow joined forces against me, calling out to me, inviting me to fall into their welcoming embrace, and I succumbed.

Where they would take me, I didn’t know.

But, on the other hand, neither did I care.


TO BE CONTINUED...

Note: Through the following weeks, we will walk through "Hannah's" journey as she continues to search for acceptance and meaning in her life and her story will conclude on June 10th at Firm Foundation Ministries - my home church. Hannah will be coming to reveal her true identity as well as testify to the grace of God in her life.

I invite you to come, as I know you will be able to appreciate the life that Hannah now lives. She is an amazing person who inspires me daily! Hannah's story conclusion will be posted here as well.

Please feel free to share this link with others. As I've listened to Hannah tell me her story... as I write these words, I am struck over and over again at the importance of father/daughter relationships. I began this series, praying it would encourage young women - teenage women... that it would help them find their value in Christ alone. But the more I listen, the more I write, the more I realize the lesson in here for fathers as well.

If you haven't already, be sure to subscribe to Walking on Water (top right corner), and plan to join us each Monday as Hannah's story continues to unfold.

Treading Water

Walking on water.

To rise above the troubles of this world... to walk upon the stuff we're drowning in... to remain solely focused on Jesus... to place my trust in Him alone.

That's what walking on water means to me.

And that's exactly what I haven't been doing!

I haven't.

Instead, I've been treading water.  And I'm tired.  I recognize the fight for what it is - the spiritual warfare that surrounds us.  Still... that knowledge alone brings me little comfort.  I sway between longing for a boat to come save me... or the temptation to give in to the angry waves crashing against my weary soul, falling back and letting them have their way with me.  

Rising above the currents seems impossible.

I've found myself doubting the God Who longs to walk with me.  I find myself hearing the words, "did God really say..."  And suddenly all I see is weeks of sickness (flu, bronchitis, migraines, stiff neck, etc).  Overloaded schedules.  Exhausting days.  Injustice.  Brokenness.  Unanswered questions.  Unanswered prayers (or rather, not answered the way I preferred).

And in my despair I question the One in Whom I've placed all my faith and trust.  Feeling much like Eve in the garden, I desired that knowledge.  I longed to know!  To understand!   I wanted answers to my "why's".

This morning, I stood once again in the presence of the Holy Spirit... questioning.  The only voice I'd been hearing was one that proclaimed me unworthy... unlovable...  too difficult...

Too much.  

Though I knew it to be untrue, my circumstances declared otherwise, and after weeks of fighting, I began to embrace the message.

But God is faithful.

And He is good.

And I have determined in my heart of hearts that while the war rages on, I will fight.  

And fight well.

I've learned from Eve's choice.  Her desire to know led her to a life of hardship and pain.  But she had another option.  There was another tree.

How often we forget the other tree - the Tree of Life!

LIFE!

She was welcome to partake of the fruits of that tree.  To taste the lusciousness of it's bounty.  To rest beneath the shade of it's branches. To drink it in... all in.   No holds barred!  Yet, she turned away.

There is one thing that I do know, and I cling to this knowledge.  God will bring me through.  

I may never find all the answers to my questions.  I may never understand all the "why's", but this I know - He does.  He knows!  

And for me, that is enough.  In the meantime, I simply rest in the security of He Who is my source of Life.

Changes - Hannah's Story Part 6

Hannah's Redemption Story
Part 1
Part 2

Part 3
Part 4
Part 5

Changes

Part 6

It was an evening of change.

Some expected.

Some not.

Mark treated me to dinner that night.  And somewhere between the salad and the filet mignon, he asked me.

My heart stopped a moment from the sheer joy of it.  I smiled through happy tears as I nodded yes.  Mark reached across the table and slipped a ring on my finger and I warmed at the beauty of its sparkle in the candlelight.  

“Wow!  Marriage!”  I giggled as I continued to caress the gold band.  

I couldn’t help but think of the girl in the garden, the little girl who had watched her daddy drive away countless times.  

I thought of the teenager who, while searching for value, had given up something priceless.  

And I remembered the young woman and her weeks spent starving herself.  The sunken eyes and protruding ribs.  The search for perfection.

The memories haunted me, but didn’t steal my joy.  I had come so far!  Mark loved me!  He wanted me for his very own.  

No longer would I be left alone, wanting to be wanted.  My relentless pursuit for love was over.  And I had won.  I would do everything in my power to be the woman, no, I smiled at the thought, the wife that Mark needed.  We were going to be so, so happy.

We talked excitedly for an hour, dreaming of our future life together.  Finally, I glanced at my watch.  “Mark, I’m sorry, but..  I really need to get to bed.  I have an assignment due in the morning, and...”  My voice trailed off as I watched disappointment cloud his eyes.

“That’s something else I wanted to talk to you about, Hannah.”  He reached across the table and took my hand.  “You are an amazing woman.  You know that, right?”  I smiled but neither nodded nor objected.

“I...I’m glad you think so.”

He grinned and went on.  “It’s just, I want our marriage to work.  I don’t want to start our life together with so many distractions... things pulling us apart.”  I searched his eyes, wondering what he was getting at.  “You’re always so busy with school and sports and, well, I was thinking.  Why don’t you take a break from college... just for a year or two.  We’ll get married, get settled, and when life slows down a little you can get right back into school and finish your degree!”

My jaw dropped open, but I quickly snapped it shut again.  Drop out?  My mind began racing.  I was on track to finish pre-med and... and.  I stopped.  It was hard for me to even consider letting go of my dreams.  After all, I had a healthy college fund making this possible.  Finances weren’t going to be a problem.

I voiced my thoughts, and he quickly agreed.  “You’re right, Hannah, but, it’s not about the money.  I’m glad the finances are there for you to finish med school, I really am, but, it’s the time that I’m worried about.  With everything you have going on, when will you have time for me?  For... for us?”  His eyes searched my own and I melted a little.  “I want us to have an incredible marriage.” He said, “One that lasts!  I’m not saying ‘no’ to college for forever, I’m just suggesting you take a break... like I said... for a year or two.”

His thumb was rubbing light circles over the ring he had just placed on my finger as I sat looking at the crumpled napkin on the table in front of me.  Suddenly, it all made sense.  He was right!  We needed this time together.  If we wanted to have a firm foundation for our marriage, we had to have these years to build a solid relationship for our future family.

Love takes sacrifice, I told myself.  I had given up far more for love in my lifetime already.  But this, this was different.  This was for a forever love.  And forever love, I told myself, forever love is love worth sacrificing for.

TO BE CONTINUED

Note: Through the following weeks, we will walk through "Hannah's" journey as she continues to search for acceptance and meaning in her life and her story will conclude on June 10th at Firm Foundation Ministries - my home church. Hannah will be coming to reveal her true identity as well as testify to the grace of God in her life.

I invite you to come, as I know you will be able to appreciate the life that Hannah now lives. She is an amazing person who inspires me daily! Hannah's story conclusion will be posted here as well.

Please feel free to share this link with others. As I've listened to Hannah tell me her story... as I write these words, I am struck over and over again at the importance of father/daughter relationships. I began this series, praying it would encourage young women - teenage women... that it would help them find their value in Christ alone. But the more I listen, the more I write, the more I realize the lesson in here for fathers as well.

If you haven't already, be sure to subscribe to Walking on Water (top right corner), and plan to join us each Monday as Hannah's story continues to unfold.

Running - Hannah's Story Part 5

Hannah's Redemption Story

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Running

Part 5

When it comes to wintertime, northern Indiana is less than paradise.  Weeks can go by without so much as a day of golden sunlight or the various shades of blue dancing across the heavens.  Clouds hang heavy, leaving the townspeople begging for a glimpse of the sun... or perhaps a refill of Vitamin D.

I sat at my desk, that afternoon.  Feeling much like the weather.  How long could this go on?  Is this all there was to life?  One disappointment after another?

“Aren’t You there, God?”  I tipped my head back and stared at the ceiling.  What I found left me annoyed and wishing for a can of paint.   A cynical laugh slipped from my throat as I considered how nice it would be if I could erase the canvas of my life much like a gallon of Sherwin William’s Bright White Ceiling Paint could cover the residue from last summer’s resident houseflies.

Pushing back from the desk, I rummaged through my closet, pulling out my favorite running shoes.  I had to get out.  I had to run.  Something... anything to clear the muddled messages running rampant through my brain.

I had to think.

A cold spray smacked against my skin as I stepped onto the concrete slab outside my door.  I welcomed the sting.  A reminder that though I felt dead within, somewhere inside my being, life still existed.

I turned left and headed for the track near the college.  The wind picked up as the misty droplets gathered into more substantial pockets of rain and drenched my face.  I laughed the maniacal laughter of bottled up stress... pain... loneliness... maybe even craziness.  “Bring it!”  I shouted to the heavens.  “Bring it!  I don’t care.  I don’t... I don’t care.”  The moisture on my face was all I needed and I sobbed.  Salty tears mixing with the sweetness of winter rains upon my cheek.  It felt so good.  So good to cry.  The rain camouflaged the tears, allowing me the liberty of crying as I jogged through the college campus.

What was my problem? Why still the constant pain?  The aching void?  I had to admit to myself that though full of disappointment, life hadn’t always been hard.  The little girl in the garden had grown up.  I glanced at my surroundings, still amazed.  How quickly life had changed.

Was it only a year ago that I had found myself in the best situation I could have imagined?  I had pushed aside the pain caused by my relationship with Jack and, thankfully, had learned to live my life without him.  I even took steps towards overcoming my eating disorder and was getting back to a much healthier lifestyle.  

My dreams of going to college had become a reality - and I was doing well.  I found joy in immersing myself into my studies and even finding success in the university’s sports program.

But more than that, I smiled at the thought, more than all my recent accomplishments, I had found love.  Mark was everything I had ever wanted in a man.  So why this gnawing pain deep inside?

My future was bright.  I raised a gloved hand to my face and dried the tears.  “That’s enough,” I told myself.  Stopping next to a bench, I pretended to do a few stretches.  Raising my arms above my head, I filled my lungs to capacity.  The oxygen made my forehead tingle as it sent life through every cell in my body.  Shaking my hands out at my side I felt rejuvenated.  Alive, again.  No more crying.

Mark was going to be home soon, and I needed to get ready.  I still had a little homework to do before tomorrow and with the 6:00 AM workouts with my team mates, I knew my time was limited.

Whatever my problem was, I needed to get over it.  My life was full.  My schedule, overloaded.  I was in the best place of my life!  I had so, so much to be thankful for, and running around, crying in the rain was not on my list of things to do.

“Get over yourself, Hannah.”  I muttered.  The exercise, the cry, the inner pep talk was all I had needed, I told myself.  Mark had something he wanted to talk about tonight, and the thought made me smile.  Something was up.  Something good!  I was sure of it.

I ran the last few steps up my walkway and opened the door.  I had done what I needed to do.  The ache inside was simply a need to mourn the pain of my past.  Now I was at the threshold of something bigger and better than ever before.  Whatever Mark had up his sleeve, I knew it was God’s blessing, perhaps even His restitution, for the abandonment I still felt each time I heard my father’s voice.

I kicked my shoes off near the closet door and grabbed a towel.

A hot shower, another hour in the books and then I would be off for what was sure to be a grand evening.  An evening that was sure to change the course of my life forever!

TO BE CONTINUED

Note: Through the following weeks, we will walk through "Hannah's" journey as she continues to search for acceptance and meaning in her life and her story will conclude on June 10th at Firm Foundation Ministries - my home church. Hannah will be coming to reveal her true identity as well as testify to the grace of God in her life.

I invite you to come, as I know you will be able to appreciate the life that Hannah now lives. She is an amazing person who inspires me daily! Hannah's story conclusion will be posted here as well.

Please feel free to share this link with others. As I've listened to Hannah tell me her story... as I write these words, I am struck over and over again at the importance of father/daughter relationships. I began this series, praying it would encourage young women - teenage women... that it would help them find their value in Christ alone. But the more I listen, the more I write, the more I realize the lesson in here for fathers as well.

If you haven't already, be sure to subscribe to Walking on Water (top right corner), and plan to join us each Monday as Hannah's story continues to unfold.

Welcome, Sweet Baby

Welcome to the world, sweet baby!

Kennedy Raine

Only love can be divided endlessly, and still not diminish.

-Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Proud Papa and Mama

Psalm 139:13-16 

For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. 

Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.

My frame was not hidden from you,when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth.

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.