2011 falls away...

David Boyd and his daughter, Izzy

I am back tonight at the end of 2011 for a little blogging therapy.

I can honestly say that this year has been transformative, big girl panties are definitely on hand at this point. In the past year, I have had to put my prayer life in overdrive. Life and death are all around me. First with the loss of Isabella McLeod, and the survival of her twin Ian McLeod, who celebrated his 1st birthday last month. Then, again, praying my heart out for Caroline Ingle's battle with leukemia and simaltaneously begging God for David Boyd's life and healing against this dreadful Lymphoma. The sudden and tragic loss of Max Erickson, who was survived by his sweet wife, and new baby. Finally, my middle brother narrowly escaped death in August and we all held our breath as we saw him survive through a miracle. Sweet David Boyd's illness drags on and Caroline is in remission and rebuilding her immune system and life. (Thanks be to God.)

My mind spins as I run through this list of life moments. Lots of life in 2011. In the midst of all of these things, I have been pushed out there---(against my will) and have started to live my faith more "out loud" and listening and learning from God every step of the way. It is hard to do. It doesn't come easily at all and I question myself every step of the way. In the past year, reaching out from myself and being, quite frankly, uncomfortably engaged in the plight and fight of others and sharing God's love where I sense him tugging and leading me to share. It isn't easy, it takes courage, which I am constantly scraping my soul to find and piece together. It's the fumbling, bumbling thing called empathy. I think. A chance to show the love of Christ.

God has taught me so much in the process.

"Let go. Let God." You've heard this before and Really? What about life tied up in a pretty package with ribbon, satin... With all of the edges perfectly folded and the most perfect bow on top. Really?

Is this what we expect? Do we expect perfection and life without hiccups, speed bumps, detours and sudden tragedy. Yes. In many ways we do. We beg and pray for this. I know I do.

I have argued with God all year. I have wondered why and how and when? I have thirsted for answers from our Sovereign God who is omnipresent (ever present), omnipotent (all powerful), omniscient(all knowing) and full of grace. And, we, in contrast, know nothing. Absolutely nothing. Incredible.

Still we struggle with faith.

In theory, I think we weren't initially created for death. When God created Adam and Eve, he didn't create them to die, he created them to live. I think this is why we often struggle with illness and the looming threat of death. We are frightened, inexperienced and ripped apart by the thought of an end. Our minds can't bear the thought. We can't wrap our brains around loss of any kind and grief is so gnarled and confusing to navigate through. It's devastating, there's no way around it. Boooom, there it is.

This year, my faith has been a staircase of understanding. I am riding down these stairs and each time I land on a new stair, God reveals to me one more thing, and I understand more about His revelations and His plans.

My staircase \_

I pray. So, for all of the questioning and the confusion around why these things happen, I pray. God has me close at hand and he has drawn so many close through this time. Isn't that beautiful. Suddenly, inexplicably, we are nearer to Him. My faith has grown. All of these beautiful flowers of faith growing in the midst of tragedy.

God is with us. Always. Even if the journey is rough and full of struggle, He is there. He doesn't promise to keep us from all worry and tragedy, but He promises to carry us through.

Peace. If we pray for God's peace to come, it will. It does.

Healing can be in all different forms. It can happen in the soul, in the mind, in the body or in others all around you. Have we not been healed a million times over this year? I think I have.

Struggle is inevitable. If not for the bad, would we ever have had cause to look up and seek Him? Would we just pat ourselves on the back and feel pride in our smooth lives? We are a needy people. 2011 has needed God. I have needed Him for sure.

Pray. Not always eloquent, not always on schedule, but pray and talk to God, candidly. He wants to know us like that, informally and intimately.

Go. When you hear that still, small voice prick your heart to pray, make a call, make a difference, GO. Sometimes, we should pray and sometimes we should be the answer to that prayer. (Andy Stanley) No matter how foolish it feels, step out and respond to the tug at your heart.

Perspective. If God was painting a huge, grand canvas, (as illustrated at NPCC years ago with Louie Giglio) and we could only see a tiny speck of that canvas, would we still find it beautiful? Likely, no. But, do we have faith in the Artist? I do. Do you?

Faith. He has answered all our prayers and I will wait with anticipation to see what the answer is.

At this very moment, David Boyd is home for good, now in hospice care. He has battled cancer for over a year and has fought the most beautiful fight imaginable. A fight I didn't even know was possible. He has never complained. He has wanted no sympathy and thousands have looked on, praying and hoping against hope that the Lymphoma would clear. My prayers are for he and his young family, his 3 precious brothers and his parents and for every good thing to come to them now, making each moment they have together another moment full of God's peace, grace and care.

In 2011 I have spent the year, involuntarily, growing my faith in my Lord.

Happy New Year? Not really. It is a sobering, somber New Year, but I will take it, I wouldn't have it any other way. Because when my brothers and sisters hurt, I hurt and that's OK. He understands. I am grateful for every stair and every revelation. He is there. I promise.

'Call to Me and I will answer you, and I will tell you great and mighty things, which you do not know.' Jeremiah 33:3

On second thought, "Happy New Year," because that canvas is beautiful, no matter how tiny my view may be.


Rebekah