Josh
Liliana-20 months
Jonathan and Morgan after the play
Jonathan with Mrs. Jones, his K5 teacher
Monday, May 16, 2011
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Pathfinders
As far back as I can remember, I have been a worry-wart. I remember worrying about my parents dying, getting into an accident. I remember worrying about being called on at school to answer a question, missing the bus, dropping my lunch in the cafeteria and being laughed at. I had fears about calling people on the telephone and the dreaded class presentations. I was afraid of the dark, water, and dogs. You name it, and I could wrap a fear around it in a blink of an eye. I think it is partly because I have always been a "what-if" kind of person. I assume that's why science and forensics captivate me even to this day. I love to "master the possibilities", however most of my anticipation of the possibilities ended in a gripping fear of the worst possible case scenario. As I grew, I traded my foolish, childhood fears for larger, more mature ones. Fear of leaving home to go to college...staying in a bad relationship in my teens and early twenties out of the fear of being single forever. Fear of not being a success in life. I think you get my point.
God tells us in His word that He has not "given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind." (2 Timothy 1:7). He tells us again in Romans 8:15 that we "did not receive a spirit that makes [us] a slave again to fear, but the Spirit of sonship." These passages reveal two important truths to me. First, that fear is a spirit. I am not talking like Casper the friendly ghost kind of spirit, but a real atmosphere that attached itself wherever it is received. The second truth is that the spirit of fear did not come from, and never will come from God.
One day, right after I finished college, my life came to a crashing halt. Everything I had planned, dreamed and counted on was ripped out of my grasp. As you can imagine, the complete loss of control over the details of one's life would send any fear-riddled soul into an unrecoverable, downward spiral. I felt as though my fears stood straight up in front of my eyes, mocking me in a victory dance. I was overcome with grief, anger, and irrational thoughts. My sweet Mother did all that she knew to do, and, sensing the urgency of my situation, prayed and interceded for my very life. I was a walking zombie for the next couple of days, then something happened. Something awoke on the inside of me. Something sparked hope in a bleak, dark time, that should have engulfed me into a state of insanity. For the first time ever, I saw that there were two paths in front of me. The first was where I found myself standing. It was an easy path, with bright lights, and neon signs, and plenty of space to walk. People as far as the eye could see, walking beside me, in front of me and behind. All the obstacles had been removed, all the hills made flat and the valleys lifted. The twists and turns had been eliminated and I could see for miles and miles without even straining. It was the obvious, logical path, and for someone with as many fears as I had, it was the path where I could maintain complete control of where I was going at all times. The bright lights and neon signs were so captivating and appealing, that my senses were full to the brim. My path was so inviting and so perfect to me, that I could walk it with my eyes closed, and many times, I did. I'm sure I had my eyes closed on the day that I was so rudely thrown to the ground by what I call, "The Screeching Halt".
It's hard to say exactly what caused this abrupt halt, because there weren't any warning signs. Not that I saw, at least. I mean, there was no slowing traffic, no yellow caution lights, everything flowing right along schedule. Tick tock...chop chop. Or so it seemed. But that's the thing about this path on which I was a traveller. The warnings are camouflaged by the big, the bold and the beautiful. Yes, I could pinpoint the obvious contributing factors that threw my perfect little world out of orbit, but it was as if those details were merely the result of a greater force at work. Suddenly my rocked world caused me to shift my glance. This other path was one I really never notice before. I guess my steps were just so comfortable, so effortless, that I never questioned the existence of another path. Once I laid eyes on it, I instantly knew it had actually been there all along. This other path, at times, is very difficult to travel, dimly lit, and filled with twists, turns, hills and valleys. Sometimes it's a quiet path, where you walk alone for miles, wondering if anyone else is even there. Once I took the leap from the old path to the new one, I immediately knew I was not the same anymore. I felt free. I felt strong, and brave. Not any words I would have ever used to describe myself before. So I kept on that path, and I learned several things. I learned that the path I chose leads to my destiny, my peace, the divine. Over the years, it has challenged me to step out of my comfort zone, think outside the walls of my own understanding, and place complete faith in something I can't see, or touch. In a world searching for purpose, only to find the blind leading the blind, I have been given a wonderful gift of a Lamp to light my path.
Do I still have fears? Sure, at times. Especially when I take my eyes off of God and try to work in my own limited knowledge and strength. Is life perfect? Not a chance, but my peace is perfect, even in the storms, even in the trials, even when I fail. It is because my peace is not something I conjured up myself, but has been given to me by Jesus, who is the Prince of Peace. Do I ever regret leaving my first path for the second? Never.
God tells us in His word that He has not "given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind." (2 Timothy 1:7). He tells us again in Romans 8:15 that we "did not receive a spirit that makes [us] a slave again to fear, but the Spirit of sonship." These passages reveal two important truths to me. First, that fear is a spirit. I am not talking like Casper the friendly ghost kind of spirit, but a real atmosphere that attached itself wherever it is received. The second truth is that the spirit of fear did not come from, and never will come from God.
One day, right after I finished college, my life came to a crashing halt. Everything I had planned, dreamed and counted on was ripped out of my grasp. As you can imagine, the complete loss of control over the details of one's life would send any fear-riddled soul into an unrecoverable, downward spiral. I felt as though my fears stood straight up in front of my eyes, mocking me in a victory dance. I was overcome with grief, anger, and irrational thoughts. My sweet Mother did all that she knew to do, and, sensing the urgency of my situation, prayed and interceded for my very life. I was a walking zombie for the next couple of days, then something happened. Something awoke on the inside of me. Something sparked hope in a bleak, dark time, that should have engulfed me into a state of insanity. For the first time ever, I saw that there were two paths in front of me. The first was where I found myself standing. It was an easy path, with bright lights, and neon signs, and plenty of space to walk. People as far as the eye could see, walking beside me, in front of me and behind. All the obstacles had been removed, all the hills made flat and the valleys lifted. The twists and turns had been eliminated and I could see for miles and miles without even straining. It was the obvious, logical path, and for someone with as many fears as I had, it was the path where I could maintain complete control of where I was going at all times. The bright lights and neon signs were so captivating and appealing, that my senses were full to the brim. My path was so inviting and so perfect to me, that I could walk it with my eyes closed, and many times, I did. I'm sure I had my eyes closed on the day that I was so rudely thrown to the ground by what I call, "The Screeching Halt".
It's hard to say exactly what caused this abrupt halt, because there weren't any warning signs. Not that I saw, at least. I mean, there was no slowing traffic, no yellow caution lights, everything flowing right along schedule. Tick tock...chop chop. Or so it seemed. But that's the thing about this path on which I was a traveller. The warnings are camouflaged by the big, the bold and the beautiful. Yes, I could pinpoint the obvious contributing factors that threw my perfect little world out of orbit, but it was as if those details were merely the result of a greater force at work. Suddenly my rocked world caused me to shift my glance. This other path was one I really never notice before. I guess my steps were just so comfortable, so effortless, that I never questioned the existence of another path. Once I laid eyes on it, I instantly knew it had actually been there all along. This other path, at times, is very difficult to travel, dimly lit, and filled with twists, turns, hills and valleys. Sometimes it's a quiet path, where you walk alone for miles, wondering if anyone else is even there. Once I took the leap from the old path to the new one, I immediately knew I was not the same anymore. I felt free. I felt strong, and brave. Not any words I would have ever used to describe myself before. So I kept on that path, and I learned several things. I learned that the path I chose leads to my destiny, my peace, the divine. Over the years, it has challenged me to step out of my comfort zone, think outside the walls of my own understanding, and place complete faith in something I can't see, or touch. In a world searching for purpose, only to find the blind leading the blind, I have been given a wonderful gift of a Lamp to light my path.
Do I still have fears? Sure, at times. Especially when I take my eyes off of God and try to work in my own limited knowledge and strength. Is life perfect? Not a chance, but my peace is perfect, even in the storms, even in the trials, even when I fail. It is because my peace is not something I conjured up myself, but has been given to me by Jesus, who is the Prince of Peace. Do I ever regret leaving my first path for the second? Never.
~
Enter through the narrow gate.
For wide is the gate
and broad is the road
that leads to destruction,
and many enter through it.
But small is the gate
and narrow the road
that leads to life,
and only a few find it.
Matthew 7:13 (NIV)
For wide is the gate
and broad is the road
that leads to destruction,
and many enter through it.
But small is the gate
and narrow the road
that leads to life,
and only a few find it.
Matthew 7:13 (NIV)
~
If, on the day that I was presented with the choice of the two paths, I would have chosen according to my fears, I would probably still be on that other path to this day. Fear is the polar opposite of faith, and it is what keeps many of us bound and blind. As cliché as it may sound, I have found a freedom that I never knew when I strolled along the other path. It's ironic how having the freedom to do whatever you want-whatever feels right at the time, ends up doing nothing more than placing us in chains. We live in regret from all the horrible choices we've made that didn't quite turn out exactly as we had planned. Even more ironic is how, when we choose to place ourselves under the submission of God, His rules and His ways, we end up with a freedom we never knew existed.~
My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts,” says the Lord.
“And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine.
For just as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so my ways are higher than your ways
and my thoughts higher than your thoughts.
“The rain and snow come down from the heavens
and stay on the ground to water the earth.
They cause the grain to grow,
producing seed for the farmer
and bread for the hungry.
It is the same with my word.
I send it out, and it always produces fruit.
It will accomplish all I want it to,
and it will prosper everywhere I send it.
You will live in joy and peace.
The mountains and hills will burst into song,
and the trees of the field will clap their hands!
Isaiah 55:8-12 (NLT)
~
So, if I asked you today, what path you are on, what would you tell me? Maybe you don't even know. Maybe you have never even thought about it before. Equally important, do you know why you choose to stay on the path you are on, regardless of which one it is? We should walk with purpose, wherever we are walking. We can have such drive and purpose, running full steam ahead, on a path that is completely wrong, and all we will be doing is getting nowhere, fast. We can also be on the right path, but only walking halfheartedly, never reaching our intended goal. My prayer is that each one of us walks on the right path, with great purpose and a heart that wants everything God has in His plan for us. There is, after all, no greater life than that.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Fruit: the good, the bad, and the ugly.
Beware of false prophets who come disguised as harmless sheep but are really vicious wolves. You can identify them by their fruit, that is, by the way they act. Can you pick grapes from thornbushes, or figs from thistles? A good tree produces good fruit, and a bad tree produces bad fruit. A good tree can’t produce bad fruit, and a bad tree can’t produce good fruit. So every tree that does not produce good fruit is chopped down and thrown into the fire. Yes, just as you can identify a tree by its fruit, so you can identify people by their actions. Matthew 7:15-20 (NLT)
Trees were a big source of fun when I was little. Next door, in Grampa Kalisiewicz's yard, he had three huge pear trees and one apple tree. My little sister and I spent many hours up in those trees. The apple tree was a beautiful tree. It was the easiest tree for me to climb, so that's where I chose to be, most of the time. Unfortunately, that beautiful tree produced awful apples, so when I had a taste for something sweet, I would have to leave that tree, and head over to the pear tree. The fruit of the pear trees were delicious. I don't think I have ever tasted a pear quite as good as Grampa's since then. The last time I went home, I noticed that the trees weren't the same. As trees often do after many years, they had gotten warn out, and stopped producing pears in the same way that they used to. Mom said she noticed the pears dwindling a few years back. She said the trees didn't look good, and then they stopped producing those sweet, delicious, juicy fruit.
In life, just as in nature, there is nothing more frustrating than being around a tree that looks good, but produces nasty fruit. It's such a disappointment, and even repulsive at times. Unfortunately, we don't always know what kind of tree we are dealing with until the fruit ripens. Often, there are signs that warn us that something is very wrong. Plagued leaves, rotten branches, attacking fungus. But once you know that your tree is bad, you don't expect much of it. Harder still is the once beautiful tree with near perfect fruit, that suddenly changes and becomes erratic. There is good fruit mixed in with the bad. You have to be very selective when choosing to consume what is being offered by this tree, and eventually it gets to be such a chore finding good fruit, that it's easier to just find another source. It's a case of a good tree gone bad, just like grampa's pears. It's a tree that you would rather avoid. Yes, you are aware of it, and it does produce some good fruit, but it is such a bother and not worth the time to sift through the rottenness to find something worth your effort. Mentally, this tree wears on us. We remember how good the tree once was, and every once in a while, we venture back to it, thinking that maybe, just maybe the tree has recovered. At first glance it looks promising, until we take a bite of the fruit, only to have to spit it out, and walk away disappointed.
I am thankful that we are able to see fruit for what it really is, and judge the tree by it's fruit. Ripe or rotten, it's unmistakable. Being that there are orchards and orchards of trees out there, it behooves us to be selective. We need to be very careful what we choose to allow in our "garden", because it will either influence us positively or negatively, but make no mistake, it will definitely influence us. People love to say, "Judge not, lest you be judged", but here's one plain example of where God says it's good and right to judge. Not for the sake of condemning anyone, but for the purpose of protecting ourselves from bad influences. Thank you Lord for letting each fruits be seen, and guiding us every day on the path that leads to abundant life.
Trees were a big source of fun when I was little. Next door, in Grampa Kalisiewicz's yard, he had three huge pear trees and one apple tree. My little sister and I spent many hours up in those trees. The apple tree was a beautiful tree. It was the easiest tree for me to climb, so that's where I chose to be, most of the time. Unfortunately, that beautiful tree produced awful apples, so when I had a taste for something sweet, I would have to leave that tree, and head over to the pear tree. The fruit of the pear trees were delicious. I don't think I have ever tasted a pear quite as good as Grampa's since then. The last time I went home, I noticed that the trees weren't the same. As trees often do after many years, they had gotten warn out, and stopped producing pears in the same way that they used to. Mom said she noticed the pears dwindling a few years back. She said the trees didn't look good, and then they stopped producing those sweet, delicious, juicy fruit.
In life, just as in nature, there is nothing more frustrating than being around a tree that looks good, but produces nasty fruit. It's such a disappointment, and even repulsive at times. Unfortunately, we don't always know what kind of tree we are dealing with until the fruit ripens. Often, there are signs that warn us that something is very wrong. Plagued leaves, rotten branches, attacking fungus. But once you know that your tree is bad, you don't expect much of it. Harder still is the once beautiful tree with near perfect fruit, that suddenly changes and becomes erratic. There is good fruit mixed in with the bad. You have to be very selective when choosing to consume what is being offered by this tree, and eventually it gets to be such a chore finding good fruit, that it's easier to just find another source. It's a case of a good tree gone bad, just like grampa's pears. It's a tree that you would rather avoid. Yes, you are aware of it, and it does produce some good fruit, but it is such a bother and not worth the time to sift through the rottenness to find something worth your effort. Mentally, this tree wears on us. We remember how good the tree once was, and every once in a while, we venture back to it, thinking that maybe, just maybe the tree has recovered. At first glance it looks promising, until we take a bite of the fruit, only to have to spit it out, and walk away disappointed.
I am thankful that we are able to see fruit for what it really is, and judge the tree by it's fruit. Ripe or rotten, it's unmistakable. Being that there are orchards and orchards of trees out there, it behooves us to be selective. We need to be very careful what we choose to allow in our "garden", because it will either influence us positively or negatively, but make no mistake, it will definitely influence us. People love to say, "Judge not, lest you be judged", but here's one plain example of where God says it's good and right to judge. Not for the sake of condemning anyone, but for the purpose of protecting ourselves from bad influences. Thank you Lord for letting each fruits be seen, and guiding us every day on the path that leads to abundant life.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Monday, May 9, 2011
Unconditional Love
Hugs, hand prints, and homemade cards...kisses and coupons for more hugs, back rubs, helping hands with a smile. What a sweet Mother's Day! These days are like snowflakes...each one unique, never to be equaled. My boys are reaching an age where they have their own ideas, and they enjoy being creative. I love to see what comes out of their imaginations, without any help from anyone. To Josh, I am the "best Mom in the whole wide world", and Jonathan loves me "so so much" and he "loves me like a flower"...and with the way that boy loves flowers, that's saying a bunch!
Just as we have unconditional love for our children, they have the same love for us. I am definitely not a Supermom. I have moments when I yell, and probably exasperate my children with all my "pick up this" and "clean that", but there is no doubt in my childrens' minds that they are loved immensely. When it comes right down to it, even with the occasional craziness in our home, and the debates on what is acceptable for attitudes and actions, and after all is said and done, there is so much love. I am so very thankful that I had parents that were free to express their love towards me, and told me often that they were proud of me. I never felt like I was a burden on my parents, or in the way, even with all eight kids romping around. When I think back over the years as a child in my parents' home, the sweet, special times shine so bright in my memory. Sure, there were times of stress and conflict as there is in any home where people are close to each other, but those times have faded into an almost non-existent realm. I guess it's all in what we choose to remember, and being that there were innumerable good times, and only a handful of difficult ones, it's easy to dwell on the good!
For Mother's Day, I bought my husband a present, because if it weren't for him and the Lord, I wouldn't have the privilege of all this love that has been lavished on me! So I found this book entitled "Raising a Modern-Day Knight". It's a focus on the family book, and he's really enjoying it. Luis and I had a very different childhood. I firmly believe that his upbringing was very instrumental in bringing him to the feet of Jesus. The Lord knows our spirit, and knows what each of us need to experience to return to Him. His parents did the best they knew how to do, and he is thankful for them, and always knew that his parents loved him, even if they could not express it openly. They both had an alcohol problem, and fighting was the norm instead of the exception. He grew up with a lot of strife all around him, and felt "on his own" at an early age. I looked up the meaning of Luis's name on line the other day. Luis means "famous warrior", and Fernando means "daring, adventurous". I'm sure his mother had no idea the meaning of her middle son's name, but it fits him perfectly. Luis has always had drive and motivation. He has always had an entrepreneurial spirit. He ran his own store out of his Mom's garage when he was young. At age 14, he ran away from home and travelled by train from his town in the mountains between Guadalajara and Puerta Vallarta, Mexico, all the way to Huntington Park, California where his Uncle Hector lived. As a mother, whenever I hear this story, my heart sinks. I can't imagine one of my children running off. In my limited thinking, I pray that never happens. But I realize fully that these "trips" to LA changed my husbands life forever, and made him the man, and the Christian that he is today. One of my favorite quotes is "Nothing is ever wasted". I have to remember when I pray for my children, not to pray for the easy life, or the problem free life, but to pray for the life that will bring them so very close to the Lord. That is NOT easy.
So this Mother's Day was wonderful and reflective. Thank you, Lord for the opportunity to raise the children you have given us. I know they are yours, first, and a special gift from you to my husband and I. Continue to teach us, Lord, how to raise our children so they will follow you sincerely, with their whole hearts. As much as I strive to be the perfect parent, I acknowledge that you, Lord, are the only perfect parent, and I lean on your wisdom, and strength. Thank you for giving me unconditional love, even when I didn't deserve it, and teaching me how to extend that unconditional love to my precious little ones.
Just as we have unconditional love for our children, they have the same love for us. I am definitely not a Supermom. I have moments when I yell, and probably exasperate my children with all my "pick up this" and "clean that", but there is no doubt in my childrens' minds that they are loved immensely. When it comes right down to it, even with the occasional craziness in our home, and the debates on what is acceptable for attitudes and actions, and after all is said and done, there is so much love. I am so very thankful that I had parents that were free to express their love towards me, and told me often that they were proud of me. I never felt like I was a burden on my parents, or in the way, even with all eight kids romping around. When I think back over the years as a child in my parents' home, the sweet, special times shine so bright in my memory. Sure, there were times of stress and conflict as there is in any home where people are close to each other, but those times have faded into an almost non-existent realm. I guess it's all in what we choose to remember, and being that there were innumerable good times, and only a handful of difficult ones, it's easy to dwell on the good!
For Mother's Day, I bought my husband a present, because if it weren't for him and the Lord, I wouldn't have the privilege of all this love that has been lavished on me! So I found this book entitled "Raising a Modern-Day Knight". It's a focus on the family book, and he's really enjoying it. Luis and I had a very different childhood. I firmly believe that his upbringing was very instrumental in bringing him to the feet of Jesus. The Lord knows our spirit, and knows what each of us need to experience to return to Him. His parents did the best they knew how to do, and he is thankful for them, and always knew that his parents loved him, even if they could not express it openly. They both had an alcohol problem, and fighting was the norm instead of the exception. He grew up with a lot of strife all around him, and felt "on his own" at an early age. I looked up the meaning of Luis's name on line the other day. Luis means "famous warrior", and Fernando means "daring, adventurous". I'm sure his mother had no idea the meaning of her middle son's name, but it fits him perfectly. Luis has always had drive and motivation. He has always had an entrepreneurial spirit. He ran his own store out of his Mom's garage when he was young. At age 14, he ran away from home and travelled by train from his town in the mountains between Guadalajara and Puerta Vallarta, Mexico, all the way to Huntington Park, California where his Uncle Hector lived. As a mother, whenever I hear this story, my heart sinks. I can't imagine one of my children running off. In my limited thinking, I pray that never happens. But I realize fully that these "trips" to LA changed my husbands life forever, and made him the man, and the Christian that he is today. One of my favorite quotes is "Nothing is ever wasted". I have to remember when I pray for my children, not to pray for the easy life, or the problem free life, but to pray for the life that will bring them so very close to the Lord. That is NOT easy.
So this Mother's Day was wonderful and reflective. Thank you, Lord for the opportunity to raise the children you have given us. I know they are yours, first, and a special gift from you to my husband and I. Continue to teach us, Lord, how to raise our children so they will follow you sincerely, with their whole hearts. As much as I strive to be the perfect parent, I acknowledge that you, Lord, are the only perfect parent, and I lean on your wisdom, and strength. Thank you for giving me unconditional love, even when I didn't deserve it, and teaching me how to extend that unconditional love to my precious little ones.
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