My primary redemptive gift is giver. Arthur helped me a lot in gaining the right actions so that the negative head of Leviathan could be quenched in my life and become food instead. At any given moment I am a part of a swirl that comes from before and moves into the future. Less and less of life is about consuming. More and more is about investing. I am not here to own stuff. I am here to steward during my time. This paradigm makes it very easy to see that the church in the western culture must undergo serious change. We cannot make a person be in the spotlight while others laze away. Each person in a group must be sparked and growing. If the one who has the most developed gifting is the center, that one will not be provoked to grow in their own areas of deficit. The Johnny Carson show was all about Johnny. That model is not good for the human heart.

So when it comes to giving, I love to give where I see Father’s hand. He is so much better than me at seeing the hearts involved.

But recently, he asked me to give into a group that does ministry. I have seen financial fiasco with this group. I have heard many complaints. I have been very hurt by the wounded financial posture here. And I asked-really?

He answered me this way. He showed me his son on the earth. Watching fishermen. That had not caught a thing. He saw their struggles. He filled their net. He fed them. I savor his goodness.

Then I see the same son, calling these fishermen. Training them. In ways they had not previously known. Fishing. Different bait, different catch. Enlarging their mind. Awakening their spirit. Gripping their hearts.

That, I identify with! I sing! Yes! I would much rather teach a person to fish than feed them God! I understand feeding needs be for a while. But then, let’s fish!

He gentles me. That is not the end, little one. A teaching moment approaches.

And I remember the day. The time he returns me to, time before and time after time. There, by the fire. After the fact. When the hearts have been revealed. The ugliness has been seen. And no model for reconciliation exists.

John 21. Peter is going back. Back to his old way. He doesn’t know how to re enter love. And Jesus. Sits by the fire. Cooking fish. The ordinary kind. To restore relationship. To make wrong things right. This is not about ministry. This is what love does. Love feeds the hungry. Love heals the sick. Love casts out fear, and doubt, and shame. This love.

And He says, give to the family, not the ministry. Give because they struggle in finding their way back. Give to the father, so he may feed his family. I work all things together for good. Give, and believe.

And here, is the peace. And the reason. And the hope. Not for what may be done for me. But what continues may continue in the faith of our living God. Selah.

 

Last week, on Monday, I found peace to buy some plane tickets. The trip was for my husband and me, to go visit my mom and step dad.

They had been moved to a facility to help care for their needs. My mom had a leaky heart and Alzheimers, my step dad has a host of things that go with a 96 year old deteriorating body.

My own journey of healing had seemed to require an 11 year absence from relationship. Six years ago I began the process of rebuilding relationship. Visits here, phone calls there…in March is when the deep reconciliation with tears and forgiveness happened on both sides. I am so glad we had that time. The deteriorating health meant weekly or biweekly calls to my oldest sister. It has been wonderful rebuilding our friendship, so much richer for the healing both sides have gained.

Tuesday was a court date for my family. A nephew had stolen a bunch of my moms money. A sister had made some threats. Restraining orders needed to be in place. But the court session went awfully. What should have been done had not been done and what was currently requested was redirected to another area of the courts. When I found out on Wednesday, my heart went before the Lord. I pleaded with him for mercy. I asked him about justice. I argued with how things went in the natural.

He didn’t answer.

Then.

My mom had a nice Thanksgiving. People who love her were around her. And that night, after being put to bed, she got up. And she fell. And her head cracked open. And she was on blood thinners. Friday morning at 1 they found her. She died on the way to the hospital. 

I know that was his answer. He allowed me to witness parts of her transition. And I have hope that now my mom is finally seeing what a real marriage is supposed to be like, for the first time. her three marriages had not shown her what marriage to the Lord would be like.

No, I will not attend the memorial. I do not have a family that is able to gather and celebrate a life. Right now there are tensions and threats and hate between different siblings. My portion does not include having the memorial my husband’s family had where their mom passed.

No, I do not get an inheritance. I gave all that up when I chose my healing path away from blood relatives. No I do not have any mementos from my mom. That too was my cost. The house is sold and all that she had has been distributed to those who stayed within the area.The pictures I have of my mom, three of them, that I had when I moved, are all that I am able to preserve from my childhood.

The pain, in the waves it comes, is great. She was my mom. And I am flooded with moments, moments of memory, that touch deep sorrow for what was and what shall not be, here. These are not regrets, but more like an acceptance.

But she sees it differently now, I believe. Instead of the pain she knew when I moved away to heal, she feels joy at what the bloodline has gained.

I just wish, and probably always will while I am here, that we could finally sit down and really talk about it. I mourn, and I hope. And I continue. And I am undone at the Lord’s dealings with her. Surely he is perfect love. And he makes everything beautiful in its time.