Rhyme and Reason

When I was in high school, I went through what many would call my "teen angst" stage.  If you're unfamiliar with this term, it is generally a "girl" thing.  Back in the day (1980's), this was usually expressed in diary journals and sad, dark poetry.  For me, my poetry was a way to express myself in words which I found hard to speak.  Most of my writing was an outflow of prayers to God.  A lot of "why me" type of stuff.  Very emotional, teen girl stuff.

I have often found that I can express myself more fully in written (or typed) words.  Thus, this blog!  However, poetry is not a genre I have commonly used in my adult life.  For this post, I make an exception.

Last night, as I was unsuccessfully trying to drift off to sleep, the following words were flowing from my heart to God.  My first thought was to jump out of bed and hurriedly write it all out.  Alas, jumping out of anything at my age is not the best idea.  And at 11:30 p.m., an even worse idea!

And so, without further ado, I give you my latest, and probably not even close to the best, edition of a poem from my heart:

This Grief

This is not a grief I have known,
This grey and misty path I now trod.
It is a mystery, and not an anguish
With which I desire to commune.

I have known the grief of death,
Walking through the sorrow of losing those
Who are the aged and the ill
Is not an unfamiliar path.
I have known this grief.

I have known the grief of sudden loss,
The unexpected passing
Of one too soon lost to this earthly life.
The young, or those who left our world
Swiftly, before it seemed their time.
I have known this grief.

I have known the grief of parting,
Saying my farewells to friends
To whom I owed a great debt
For sharing their life and love.
People who have impacted me eternally.
I have known this grief.

I have known the grief of disappointment,
When trust has been broken
And confidence in relationship rendered ineffectual.
The times of longing to once again
To have assurance of another person's honesty.
I have known this grief.

I have known the grief of anxiety,
Wondering if the fears in my heart
Are somehow going to come to fruition.
Desiring to trust my God to uphold me,
Yet still doubting at times if He will.
I have known this grief.

I have known the grief of personal sin,
Seeing in myself such lamentable insufficiency,
Knowing I have failed the God I love,
And wondering if His forgiveness
Is still mine for the asking.
I have known this grief.

I have known the grief of childlessness,
The yearning to feel that fluttering
Of new life within my womb.
Craving the gift of motherhood,
Desiring to fulfill a role of my dreams.
I have known this grief.

But this new grief is one I have not known.
For the son of my longing heart became
The gift given in answer to many prayers.
This young, marvelous person,
With whom I have spent my past 18 years.
And yet...

The time has come for him to be
A man in his own right.
An adult being formed by God,
But no longer under the watchful eye
Of his mother and loving father.
This is a grief I have not known.

Lord, please teach me now,
How to keep this grief in its place,
Not causing me to question
Your ways or your methods
Of molding my beloved offspring
In the image of Your own Son.
This is a grief I must let go.

It is time for me to know this grief.
Yet is time for me to release it, too.
It is time for me to allow You
To birth him into adulthood,
And the life You have as his destiny.
This is a joy I must know.

And so, my son, I entrust you
To the care of the One who formed you.
May my brief sorrow at our parting
Blossom into the great joy
Of seeing God fulfill the plan
He has had for you from the beginning.

Copyright © 2014 Joni Johnson. All Rights Reserved.

" 'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.' 

Jeremiah 29:11

Walking Through the Stages

Yesterday, my role in life took me to a new level.  Well, I shouldn't say it "took" me.  I'm still on the way.  I can't guarantee when I will arrive, either!

After a two hour journey, we delivered our son (and a good portion of his earthly possessions) at the doors of higher education.  A few hours and many drops of sweat (and tears) later, we departed for home.

If anyone tells you they are relieved to have their son or daughter off to college, please question them further.  There will most likely be underlying issues.  At least that is my guess.

This is one of the hardest roles I have lived to date:  Mom of a college freshman.  My little boy is now in the world of adults and life decisions and all that makes for growing up.  Am I sad?  Absolutely.  I miss him so much already!  Am I proud?  Without a doubt.

Was I ready for this?  Not nearly as much as I thought I would be.  But God is faithful.  And so, the God to whom I have entrusted my son since birth, I once again entrust him, as he steps out on the next portion of his own journey.

I'm still just a Facebook message or phone call away!  :o)

Journeying With the Eyes of Faith

Photo by Neil Weaver Photography

Several years ago when I began this blog, it was all about our family's journey.  We were searching our way through to the Catholic Church, through homeschooling, and into a new phase of our lives.  Almost eight years later, I am truly amazed at the things God has done, and the multitude of lessons we have learned.

Another part of my blog has been to share some of my personal struggles and the ups and downs of dealing with panic attacks and anxiety.  Whew!  Now, that should have been a blog of its own!  Again, I stand amazed at the people God has brought into my life and the ways He has walked me through this winding, bumpy roller coaster called life!

Let me take you down a new path today.  This is a place God is leading me, and I'd like to invite you to join me.

Last Sunday, the Gospel reading for the day was from Matthew 14:22-33:

After he had fed the people, Jesus made the disciples get into a boat
and precede him to the other side,
while he dismissed the crowds. 
After doing so, he went up on the mountain by himself to pray. 
When it was evening he was there alone. 
Meanwhile the boat, already a few miles offshore,
was being tossed about by the waves, for the wind was against it. 
During the fourth watch of the night,
he came toward them walking on the sea. 
When the disciples saw him walking on the sea they were terrified. 
“It is a ghost,” they said, and they cried out in fear. 
At once Jesus spoke to them, “Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.” 
Peter said to him in reply,
“Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” 
He said, “Come.” 
Peter got out of the boat and began to walk on the water toward Jesus. 
But when he saw how strong the wind was he became frightened;
and, beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” 
Immediately Jesus stretched out his hand and caught Peter,
and said to him, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” 
After they got into the boat, the wind died down. 
Those who were in the boat did him homage, saying,
“Truly, you are the Son of God.”

I had just finished reading Ted Dekker's first book in "The Outlaw" series, which is titled, "Water Walker."  Without giving away too much of the story line, one of the greatest moments of the book is when a young woman realizes the only way she can walk on water is to let go of all that inhibits her.  In her case, it is bitterness and a stubborn refusal to forgive.

Tonight, I finished the last pages of a wonderful series by Richard Paul Evans:  "The Walk."  The title of the last book is???  "Walking on Water."  Do you think God is trying to say something to me?  :o)

During Sunday morning's homily, our pastor, Father Joe, began by talking about our need to see God as our Father.  We so often treat God as if He is an abusive Father, instead of the loving, caring, awesome Father He is.  When it comes to the invitation to walk out on the water with Him, we focus more on the waves than we focus on the Hand outstretched to us, thinking it must be a trick.  He must want us to sink, right?  

As I was pondering these thoughts, the question came to my mind:  What is hindering me from stepping out of the boat?  And when I do step out, what is it that I focus on, instead of Christ?

"Don't be afraid to let go of your fear."

Now that seems to be a bit of an oxymoron, doesn't it?  But it's so true!  Even fear--as much as cripples a person--can be a sort of "comfort zone" in life.  It is a place we know, so it is easier than walking out onto those unknown waters in the storm of life.  In other words:  stick with what you know, so you don't have to try the new thing that might overwhelm you.  It is, in some ways, the same as a person who has become homeless.  Many times, even though this individual is given opportunities to leave the streets, move up in life, and separate themselves from their seeming circumstances of uncertainty, they choose the streets.  Why?  Because it's what they know.  Better to stick with what they know, than to face something new and unknown.

Really, though, what is there to fear?  If the One who created us is out on the water already, then it is a place of safety.  No matter what the circumstances my seem, it is the most secure place to be!  Life is an adventure, with many twists and turns.  Why walk that path alone?

Let's go walk on some water, friends.

"In the end, it is not by knowledge that we make our journeys but by hope and faith:  hope that our walk will be worthy of our steps and faith that we are going somewhere.  And only when we come to the end of our journeys do we truly understand that every step of the way we were walking on water."
                                                               ~ Richard Paul Evans, Walking on Water