I love taking a day of rest each week, and usually it is either a Saturday or a Sunday depending on which day my husband is not on fire-shift.

But I find myself getting pulled back into busyness, or obligations.  I can think of seasons in the past where I was diligent to protect our day of rest.  The rewards were refreshing.

But here I am untying knots from my busy week and overcrowded mind on the day that I had planned to rest. grrrrr….at myself:-)

Do you take a day of rest each week, or month?  What are your thoughts on a day of rest and how do you stay committed to it?  ( This is not a legalistic question!)

I don’t know if it was me or Him when the impression came to my heart to give away my piano.

I had wanted to play piano since I was little.  The only piano I had access to was at my grandpa’s house.  I saw him once or twice a year.  and when I did, I was at that piano most of the time. 

We could not afford piano lessons, let alone the purcahse of a piano.  I secretly hoped as a little girl that I would wake up on Christmas  morning to a piano with a big red bow on it.  

In highschool I would spend my lunch hours in the band room playing and composing.  I had worked an afterschool job since I was 14.  I decided to begin saving my money to buy a keyboard.  I can remember the day I brought it home.  I couldn’t believe that I actually had something of my very own.  I played it everyday for hours. I was able to plug in my head set so  I could play late into the night.  It was healing balm to me.  I worshipped at it daily.  I asked God to give me the ability to write songs that would encourage people. 

About 2 years later, I saved enough to buy a really old upright.  It was so old, that the piano tuner said it couldn’t be tuned.  That didn’t matter to me.  I wrote more songs on that old piano.   Songs that reached out to those all around me: to my children, while in my womb, to my family while falling asleep, to a friend whose heart was breaking, to the children in Sunday School, to my church body, women’s retreats, bible studies, coffee houses.  He chose to use me with my incredibly limited knowledge of music theory, cadence, rhythm,  songwriting, or vocal performance.  All I knew was to sing from my heart about who He is and what He had done for me.

Sean surprised me one day by suggesting we go to the local college where they were having a sale on show room pianos.  He figured it would be nice for me to have something a bit more portable.  By the end of the afternoon we were setting up a beautiful electric piano in our living room.  The sound quality was amazing.  It was in tune!  wow….how nice that was.

I decided to give my old upright away to a homeschooling family.  They had a daughter that really wanted to take piano lessons.  They had no piano, and income was limited.  I felt  good about my decision to give it to them.

My new piano carried me through some of the hardest times.  The next 5 years would prove to be a real test for me in many ways.  Having battled with severe chronic pain, that was debilitating much of the time, I found myself at the feet of Jesus to survive.  I worshipped at that  piano most nights.  My family was so used to me playing in the night, that it wasn’t uncommon for one of them to request it.  I would get up in the middle of the night and play.  They all slept soundly. 

It was at the end of a particular season where I felt impressed to give my piano away.  I had battled long and hard with trusting God and letting go.  

I thought of Abraham and Isaac.  I wondered if God would provide a ram in the bush.

I talked it over with my family.  They supported my decision.  We all prayed together that wherever the piano went, it would bless those that played it, and those that would hear it’s song.

I can remember the day we gave it away.  I can remember thinking “what is my family going to say?  [extended]  What will friends say?”  This was a  very private decision and I did not feel at liberty to discuss it with anyone. 

I began playing my guitar again, and used it in service to those around me.    My mom and husband got caught secretly trying to buy me another piano.  They wanted to wrap one up with a big red bow.  My heart was so blessed, but I told them both that this was between me and the Lord.  I told them that He would bring me another piano.  I didn’t know how.  I didn’t know when, but I knew he would.

One day, about 6 months after giving my piano away, I walked by the bible book store.  Featured in the window was the most beautiful picture of a grand piano.  It really moved my heart.  The lady from inside the bookstore, whom I knew, came out of the store, put her arm around me and said, “Isn’t that the most beautiful picture?”  I felt so stirred inside, so drawn to it.  So I bought it,  brought it home and hung it up.

I said to the Lord, “This is my piano from you.  and if this is all I have, I will be content.”  Looking at it really gave me comfort.  Inscripted on the very bottom of the picutre was the phrase, “Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound….”

Six months later

One morning, almost one year to the date of giving my piano away, the phone rang.  The woman on the other end proceded to tell me that I don’t know her, but she had heard that I had given my piano away.  She told me a story about a mid size grand  piano that had sitting in her garage that she wanted to find a home for.  Eventually she wanted it to go to her daughter, but told me that that could be 10 years or more from now. 

She paid to have it delivered to my home,for any repairs it needed, as well as a tuning.  As they wheeled the piano into the designated corner, my piano picture hung right above it.  The pianos looked identical, so much that it caught her eye.  I was able to share with her my story.  Tears filled her eyes as she told me that she knew that this piano was right where it was supposed to be.

That was 4 years ago.  That piano has filled the halls and spaces of our home and hearts.

I know that we can’t outgive God.  and His gifts are the best.

In Him,
Storie

Jessie’s cast was shortened at week three.  She could bend her elbow now, yet was even more hesitant than before. 

“Jess, it’s ok to use the swing.  You can do  it.  It just feels different than you are used to,”  I tried to reassure her, knowing exactly why she was uneasy.

“But mama, it hurts when I bend my elbow.  i don’t think I can use it”  Little did she know she was speaking directly into my heart.  Though seven, she had wisdom that was beyond me.

That afternoon she played with a light-heartedness I had not seen in a while.   I loved seeing her play and laugh again.

As I began to rest, and allow God to untangle the knots in my soul, the tension began to lessen.  I felt the shortening of my cast too….

 I sat in the dirt in my garden. I looked at the bugs. I took our pet turtle for a walk. I played with my kids more. I made mud pies. I laid in the grass and looked at the sky. I watched my husband refinish our deck.  I fed the birds. I took naps. I journaled.  I journaled some more.

I asked God to reveal to me his love.   As He did, I wrestled less.  

Yes, I went to the neurologist.  He gave me different medications.  I didn’t have any real answers yet.  but the headaches were less.  Not completely gone, but less debilitating.

I was growing to understand that God was calling out to a part of me had not surrendered. The part of me that believed that those that love will eventually leave.  and that no one could really be trusted.  In love, He tenderly blocked my escape routes.  I could no longer “run” to busy or distract myself.  I had nothing at present to define my competence.  Yet I could feel His love.  I was experiencing something very unconditional. 

I am not saying that this was a quick fix by any means, for the story is not over.  But this was a cross roads that marked me this side of eternity.

At the end of the six weeks,  Jessie went to the Doctor’s office to have her cast removed.

As anxious as she was to have it off, she was nervous. 

This happened to fall on my first day back to work.

Sean called me that morning after the appointment.

“I think I have a word for you babe.” he said.

“yes, what’s that?” I asked

“The doctor x-rayed Jessie’s arm.  He said that the broken spot looks amazing.”

and then he added:

“He also said that when a bone breaks, it grows back even stronger in the place it broke and that if you tried to break it again in the same spot, you couldn’t.”

“And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace be still.  And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm.”           

Mark 4:39 

I called that morning to make an appointment with yet another doctor.  I had seen so many in the past year:  neurologists, osteopaths, physical therapists, dentists, chiropractors…..none had any answeres.  I was tired.  too weak.  I didn’t want another bandaid: medications that masked my symptoms,  I wanted answers.  but no one had any.    When I scheduled an appointment that morning, like so many appointments before, they wouldn’t be able to see me for at least 6 weeks.  I would be back to work by then.   

I hung up the phone feeling frustrated.  A short while later the phone rang.  It was one of my employers, Dr. L calling to check in with me.  He reminded me that if there was anything they could do, to let them know.  I explained my frustration with not being able to get in with the neurologist for 6 weeks.  He said to me, “give me a few minutes, and I will call you right back.”

the previous years had been full of waiting rooms and no answers.  Osteopaths took one look at my neck and head x-rays  and said, “you are really messed up.”  MRI’s, Cat Scans, blood work.  One opinion, and then a second.  and a third, and a fourth.  no conclusive answer.  Yes, you are messed up.  we can help mask your symptoms.  I can refer you to…..

I felt like the woman with the issue of blood.  years and years of doctors and seeking help…. she lead a lonely life, dying in her disease.

Physical therapists couldn’t even touch the muscles without sending them into acute spasm.  Eventually i trusted no one and would allow no one to touch me.  My physical state represented a spiritual condition. 

a call to surrender.  

Within 15 minutes he called back to tell me that he spoke with the neurologist himself, and they would see me 2 days later.  Dr. L told me that a year or 2 before, the neurologists son had been in an accident, and the he (dr L) was the treating surgeon.  His favor never ceased to amaze me.

reach out, Storie.  touch the hem of my garment……

it was a faint whisper deep within.

Once again, I was reminded that God was near, very near.  He continued to give me hope in the eye of the storm.

surrender?  never.

Inside this cacoon of pain, I continued to wrestle.  One night I was in so much pain that I said some things out of anger to Sean.  I then got in the car and drove.  I didn’t have any idea where I was going…just running.  and you know what?  the farther I drove, the worse the pain got, until I knew I had to turn back toward home, or I wouldn’t be able to drive myself back.  I was past the point of no return.  I pushed myself too far, once again.  The pain now  owned me.  I was no longer in control.  I was in it’s cruel vice.  

 I got home barely in time to make it to the bathroom where I would vomit and dry heave for hours.    I spent the remainder of the night on the cold tile floor of the bathroom. I was comforted by nothing other than His words that he would never leave me nor forsake me.  nor would he give me any more than i could handle, and that though i walk through the valley of the shadow of death, he was with me.  i was to fear no evil.  deep in my spirit, I was starving for his truth. that little girl in me was inside a dungeon that i had made for her, starving for bread and a cup of cold water. 

Exhaused from the pain, I had no fight in me left. 

 I was to weak to run.

it was here that i allowed God to minister to me.  all of me….

more coming,

Storie

“for by my stripes  you are healed…..”

By now Jess and I were getting more used to being in tight spaces and not being able to move around much  She was venturing out a bit, and trying to do more on her own.   She had good days, and bad days.

Sean opened the pool the following week.  she sat on the swing, swaying back and forth, watching her sisters splashing, laughing, wishing she could be a part.

Sean tilled my garden  AND planted it for me. 

you would have thought I would be grateful, which I was.  but I felt angry.  I didn’t like having to depend on anyone for anything.  it wasn’t a place i felt safe.  I sat in the yard with a blanket over my lap and watched him work.  any use of my arms at all, whether it was picking up the wet load of wash, and putting it into the dryer, or lifting my arms over my head, would result in a tension headache that would become a full blown debilitating migraine.  I couldn’t take the risk.  SO I sat, and watched while a fierce storm brewed inside.

Later that afternoon, while my other girls were swimming, Jess and I sat in the sun on the patio.  She was preoccupied with side walk chalk. 

“mama, you know what?”, she asked out of the blue, coloring away.

“we are both kind of in a cast, aren’t we?”  She wasn’t really trying to engage me in conversation, but rather making an observation.  Tears filled my eyes.  “yes, Jess.  you are right.”

Everything felt tangled up inside.  I could feel myself fighting.    I could feel anger creeping up the back of my neck penetrating knife-like stabs deep within my skull.  

I would lay down in moments like these, and just tell myself to breathe…. 

I closed my eyes. 

 I could see a little girl with her back turned away from everyone.  Her posture said, “I do not need anyone.    and I will never be hurt again.” 

Deep in my spirit I could feel this toward God as well.  Why had he allowed the things He did?  What kind of God allows devestation?  Did it please Him?  When would this all end?  How long would I have to live with shards of glass in my soul that left me bleeding?

I could feel tears stinging in my eyes.  I resisted.  My anger would not let me cry. 

I can handle your anger.  your relationships cannont.  your health cannot, came a voice in the quiet.

Sarcastically I thought to myself, ‘yea Storie, choose joy.  choose to trust.  you are bringing this all on yourself.’

I knew I couldn’t heal myself.  or change my own heart.  that created a need.  a desperate need.  I had always run away from what hurt. 

The pain of sitting still was now less than the pain of running.

I sat still….

I wanted to post the process…be patient, more is coming.

By his grace,

Storie

I don’t know when the road of our lives took a turn, but the bend in that road sent us on a very long and difficult journey.  I can talk about these things because I have moved past them and they are behind me now.  God’s healing hand has lessened the pain as we have traveled beyond it.

I can remember those five years so vividly.  The chronic pain, the migraines that came up out of no where.  I was in a prison of pain that I had no choice but to accept.  They controlled me…and I was anything but present with my family.  What kind of mom was I?  What kind of wife?

I was going through a momento box a couple of days ago.  my girls artwork, awards, calendars, you name it, it was there.  There was one book in particular that i knew i would come across.  It was a book Kaylie had made in second grade.  The cover read, “what are your parents doing right now?”

some moms were drawn watching Jerry Springer, others at the computer (that would be Tam:–) HA HA!!)

Others were at work.

Me?  The picture was an arial view of our home.  I was in bed…….listless, useless, broken inside and out.

That time in my life was not only physically excruciating, but emotionally as well.  The doctors had no answers, and my tribe  was tending to me as I should have been doing for them.  

laundry, cooking, cleaning, errands, you name it….they did it all.

I was still working 3 days a week as a hygienist at the time for an Oral Surgeon’s office.  I loved my work, my people, my patients.  but i felt so unreliable in this season.  so out of control.

After careful consideration and prayer, i met with one of my doctors one morning.  This is what they said.  “you take whatever you need.  we are here for you.  You let us know if there is anything we can do.  You just take care of you.”   I requested a 6 week leave of absence.  they granted it, no questions asked.

  A few minutes after that conversation with Dr. L,  I received an unexpected call at work.  It was Sean, my husband telling me that Jess, our middlest had fallen at the skate rink and broke her arm.  She would need surgery to correct the brake.  My doctors told me that I needed to go and be with my family.

On the drive home, I was curious about what God was up to.  I could sense Him all over this situation.  When I arrived at the hospital, Jessie was mildly sedated and anxious to just get the surgery over with so she could “go home.”  We prayed together.  She asked me to read Psalm 23 to her.  “you know mom, the scripture with ‘yea thou I walk through the valley of the shadow of death one?’ 

Jess flew through the surgery with no complications.  The doctor came out shortly after, and said, “what a brave little girl you have there.  She is only 7 and was a better patient than most of my adult patients!”  We weren’t surprised.   He proceded to tell us that she would be in a full arm cast for 6 WEEKS.  those words 6 WEEKS resonated in my head. 

What was God up to here?

We got home and I snuggled my girl in.  I made her a bed in the living room.  I knew it would be the place where we would be camped out for the next several days.  

I was thankful that I would be able to be able to be home with her.  GOD knew.  He also knew that I was hurting…neck, shoulders, head. 

He knew I was feeling hopeless that so much time had passed and i had no answers.  what if i never had an answer?  what if no doctor could figure this out?  how could i live like this?

“God”, I cried, “I need to know that you are here in this place with me.”

I looked up, and grabbed one of my favorite books off the shelf.  I opened it up, not looking for anything.   The chapter title read, “interview your anger“

It was the story of a woman and her broken relationship with her mom.  She referred to God’s healing as the breaking of a bone, (the reference was making a crooked path straight)  setting it in the cast, and then allowing time for the bone to heal.

I closed the book.  I knew He was saying that He was here…ever present with me.  I felt His peace within the angry tide of my emotions.

That was the only life preserver I had to hold onto that night.

Little did I know that the next 6 weeks would take me on a journey that I would never forget…….

a journey that I would never cease to talk of.  His faithfulness.  His healing touch, that would leave me forever changed.

more to tell of His faithfulness,

storie

I returned home three days ago from a leisurely 10 day trip to my mom’s in Santa Monica.  It was wonderful.  Time to clear my mind, and just think.  Time to create.  Time to write music.  Time to sing with friends around the fire.  Time to re-aquaint with loved ones.  Time to meet new friends.  Time…..

It takes TIME to create.  

AHHHH.  Can you feel the sea breeze and the hot sand under your feet?  Can you hear the quiet through the the noise of the wind, the sea gulls, the waves?  I can.  It is where I think best.  It took a few days to unwind.  It is as though the sea breeze swept away all the clutter in my mind.  Deep inside was a stirring to make something.  to create.  to express.

My mom took me to her art studio a few nights ago and said, “let’s paint.”  I couldn’t remember the last time I had painted.  i suddenly felt curious about the unknown, and what might come out of me, quickly followed by fear of having to paint within the lines around an obscure idea in my mind.

  Ughhh…..

it’s ok.  Debra sensed it and so plainly said, “it’s not about perfection.  Just let yourself go and see what comes.  That is the beauty of art.”

That’s all it took.  One stroke, one drop, one spray and I was on my way.   It felt so good.  I realized after  one session that I have so much inside of me to express.  On paper, in conversation, in song, in life.  I thought of my little artists and musicians back home.  Where were they in the process?  Were they feeling inspired, or wilted?  What season were they in, and how was I fostering their growth?  I came home inspired to create a space for them to create.

I love my husband’s shop.  He built it with his own hands.  Him and his dad.  It is a huge 2 door shop. (24X36 vaulted…BIG)  I tease when talking about it that it is bigger than our house.  I love going out to the shop where he is. Because he is there:  building, making, creating.  Taking the broken, old, ugly, useless things and creating something so amazing!  He is currently working on a piece that was formerly a single wide trailer that my grandparent’s.  It is what they traveled in when they moved from Temple City, CA in the 50’s.  Sean stripped it down to it’s frame, and began working it over.  Welding, sanding, and cutting it in all the right places.  The final paint job is just around the corner.

 I decided that the girls and I need a shop of our own.  A space to hang, to think, to create,  jam,  paint, dance…..and just BE….creating.

So I spent yesterday and most of today in the garage creating that space.  Maddy’s love note (in my little mail box outside my bedroom door) confirmed my decision was a good one.

Love notes?

How about “I love you mom” or ‘grateful for mom” notes?  We all love how much work your go through to make our life better”.  love, maddy

ahhh…life is good.

What are you doing to create space and time to CREATE?