Savoring the suffering

Ecclesiastes 7:2-3 It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, for death is the destiny of everyone; the living should take this to heart. Sorrow is better than laughter, for by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made better and gains gladness.


Let me just put this out there:  I love eating.   Going out to eat, cooking for people, holiday meals, sharing dinner with a friend...all of it.    All-inclusive food in resorts and on cruises? Yes, please.  YES.  I just LOVE it.  I read this Twitter post yesterday and it made me laugh:  "Dear men, Actually our dream isn't finding the perfect guy, it's being able to eat without getting fat. Sincerely, women."  True story!


So, when I recently read Ecclesiastes 7 (after listening to the song story for this song - more on that later), I was confuzzled at first.  Based on experience, the logic struck me as a little strange.   A house of feasting is fun.  But, I've been to the house of mourning on a few occasions.  Not so fun.   When I think of mourning, I think of September 11.  I was still living in NYC on what started off as a perfect Tuesday.  After the planes hit, I saw fear and disbelief on the faces of people in the streets.  I watched those buildings fall with my own eyes.  I know people who lost loved ones.  I know people who survived.  My brother-in-law was a cop who worked down there in the days and weeks that followed.  I have never seen so much mourning in my life as I did in the time following that horrific day.  


But I have also never seen so much hope. I remember that my church was packed for months after that.  Heroes abounded.  Random acts of kindness spread.   New Yorkers were actually nice to each other.  Even though I deeply wish it never happened, that Tuesday changed a lot of people, for the good, forever.  Tragedies have a way of reminding us how short life is.  That's what Solomon is talking in that verse.  Mourning reminds you to live well.  Now. 

Chances are you've dealt with intense sorrow at some point in your life.  There are plenty of things worse than divorce, but divorce is one thing I can speak to.  The sorrow of betrayal is deep.  The humiliation is terrible.  Life is interrupted, lies are exposed and confusion abounds.  Sometimes the hurt is so heavy that it truly is hard to breathe.  If you've been there or in a million other places of pain that doesn't make sense, you know. Yet, I can say this now:  More than three years after the worst of the worst days, I wouldn't trade that pain for the world.  I've never felt closer to God and I've never felt God was closer to me.  Friends surrounded me.  My kids gave me unspeakable joy and most days, they were the only reason I smiled.  That pain helped me more than it hurt me.  It taught me some very valuable lessons about life and love, and made me appreciate times of "feasting".  The tears stung but, like a good cleaning, they scoured my heart (Ecc. 7:3 MSG) and made it glad.


I guarantee you, at the time I wasn't thinking "Phew! I'm glad life SUCKS right now because my heart really needs some scouring!"  I'm not that wise (at all).  Looking back though, I see the good in it.  I see how it's helped me help others and how I'm a better woman and mother for it.  I'm still learning (sometimes the hard way), but definitely an improved Sarah.  


The other day something happened that hurt me. Minor, but it just opened up a lot of other wounds and I found myself sulking around and wanting Ben and Jerry's.  That night I heard the song I've linked to below (which led me to the chapter in Ecclesiastes) and it reminded me that there is no hurt on earth that God can't handle.  And just when you think you can't take one.more.second., the hurt and the Healer collide.  


Whatever you're facing today, as painful as it may be, savor the suffering.  Breathe it in 
deep and know that not a tear is wasted.  Let your heart be glad.  You're alive.

We (I) need a little Christmas...

Matthew 1:23 (Amplified Bible)

Behold, the virgin shall become pregnant and give birth to a Son, and they shall call His name Emmanuel--which, when translated, means, God with us.

I'm going to admit something horrible.  Here we are, three days before Christmas and I am not in the Christmas spirit. No matter what I do, I can't catch that feeling.  I grew up in New York City and, for all the bad things NYC offers, it is the best place in the world to be at Christmastime.  Lights are everywhere.  People are kind of cheery (kind of cheery is saying a lot for NYers). It's just the most magical place to be at this time of year.  Growing up, all of my family was there.  Christmas was always loud, with firecode breaking amounts of people stuffed into my grandmother's tiny railroad apartment in Queens.  We had lots of laughter, yelling over eachother and kids running wild.  That's the feeling I'm chasing.

I've tried to catch the feeling. My Pandora has had a Christmas station on all month. I put up our tree. I decorated our house. I went Christmas shopping. I attended two kiddie Christmas parties.  I went to see lights at the local speedway (yes, I'm offically a southerner...and they were lame).  My church has been playing Christmas carols all month. I watched my kids perform "Away in a manger".  I even watched It's a Wonderful Life.  Nada. 

Just this morning I was talking to my cousin about my Scrooge-ish feelings.  I just want Christmas and New Years to be over.  As excited as I am to see my kids open their gifts on Christmas morning, I'm dreading that lonely feeling because (you guessed it) this is not the way I planned it.  I always dreamed of having a "normal" family.  I dreamed of plotting and planning and hiding Christmas gifts with a husband. I dreamed of watching pajama-clad cuties opening their gifts, with both of their parents watching in enjoyment. That's just not the way it turned out.  In fact, as a parent, I've had more Christmases as a single parent than as a married one.

As I was reflecting on my inability to "feel" Christmasy (is that a word?), I started to think about the real reason for Christmas.  I know it sounds cliché, but when you really think about it, I'm sure Mary was feeling anything but Christmasy on the night she gave birth to the King of kings.  I've given birth and my first child came four days before Christmas.  While each contraction seemingly ripped a hole through my abdomen, I guarantee you I had no Christmas cheer.  Receiving my epidural was about the closest I came to merry that night.  We all know Mary had no pain medications.  She had no bed in which to lay.  She had no fancy equipment to monitor the baby's heartbeat, no one to tell her it wouldn't be much longer.  She lay in a odorific stable surrounded by farm animals.  She was giving birth to the Savior.  It sounds glorious, until you remember he was going to be the ultimate sacrifice just a short time from then.

I looked up a couple of verses relating to Christmas (God bless those YouVersion folks...download the app if you don't have it!) and came upon the one up top.  This line is the one that got me: "...and they shall call His name Emmanuel--which, when translated, means, God with us".   Do you think that's a coincidence?  Surely God could've chosen a name that meant "Savior", "blameless", "sacrificial lamb" or a thousand other things He was and is.  I don't believe there are coincidences with God though.  That name reminds us, thousands of years later, He is with us.  Always.  In the good times and the bad.  When life has somehow become exactly what we wanted or when it falls into crumbles around us while we watch helplessly.  His presence is the one thing we can rely on.  That alone should bring us comfort and joy. 

I'm still not really "feeling" that feeling.  Yet, like Mary, I want to give birth to hope.  Obviously, bearing the son of God can't be matched but you and I can birth the things which the Christ child offered: joy, peace, hope, love.  Even if it's painful.  If you are a single mom/divorcee, or walking through any other kind of difficulties in life, Christmas can be painful.  Be that as it may, my kids are not going to miss out on memories and traditions because life is a little non-traditional right now.  They are not going to see me sulking the day away, dismissing everything that the birth of Jesus offers.  It still may hurt, but I know I am birthing those things into my life and the lives of my children, and that's a better gift than I could every buy them.     There's a Christmas song we sang at church and one line says, "Joy, unspeakable joy...overflowing well, no tongue can tell. Joy, unspeakable joy, rises in my soul, never lets me go."  He truly is joy and when something overwhelms your soul, you can't help but experience it on the outside.  This season, I celebrate the unspeakable joy he offers, in good times and bad.

Okay, I'm actually feeling a little more Christmasy now!  Merry Christmas and a happy, healthy and hopeful new year to you!

Redemption (and the book you NEED to read)

I know it's been, um, forever since my last post!  Life is crazy and full of school, report cards, birthday parties, book fairs, school lunches and a very active social life...and that's just my kids. As for me, you can find me on any given Friday night in front of an episode of Dateline.  Lucky me.  Anyway,  I promise I have a few coming down the pike very soon!  


Now, if you are a single mom and have a pulse, you NEED to read this book:  My Single Mom Life by Angela Thomas.  Buy it...now. It's $6.00 new on Amazon...you'll live (maybe) if you give up two cups of Starbucks to buy this book.

Ok, done?  Great.

So, when my ex-husband first left and I was in an unbelievably confused and stressful emotional state, my friend, who had been through a similar situation, recommended this book (big shout out to my fellow Queens girl, Rachel!).  It sounds a little crazy now, but when it first happened I was so worried about my kids.  Although I still worry about them, my worries are a little more rational now.  Back then, all I could do was picture them as adults on an episode of Intervention, sticking a needle in their arm and explaining, through high-induced drooping eyelids, that this all started when their parents divorced.  I've since learned that, although divorce is never what you want for your children, God is bigger than anything this world will throw their way! They are safe in His arms.  

Okay, Im going off on a tangent here...bear with me! As I was saying, I love this book so much that I have read and reread it numerous times.  Sometimes I read the entire book, sometimes just chapters at a time.  Today I picked it up and although  I had highlighted this portion before, it really blew me away today.  I believe it's because I am now 2 1/2 years away from what was probably the worst day of my life.  I am looking at it from this perspective now, instead of being inside it. I know I've made it out of things I'd never thought I'd make it through.  So, hold on to your hat and read this:

Making a trade (page 26)

Redemption is when you bring something of little value or which has become a liability, and an exchange is made for something better. You trade in wounds and consequences for astounding, lovely blessings, in spite of the negative, or maybe because of it. In the fullness of redemption, brokenness is mended by love. Aimless wandering becomes satisfied, visionary living. Lies are traded for truth. Mourning becomes dancing. A million broken pieces are rearranged into a vibrant, intact, beyond-your-wildest-dreams journey.

That kind of redeeming trade has happened for me.  And the exchange just keeps on going.  The One who is making the trade, the Redeemer, is the One I call Perfect Love, God, the only One who can turn broken into beautiful.  Apart from his faithfulness to me, there would never have been redemption.  I am convinced that His mercy is the means by which my life began again.  Without His precious love, I'm sure I'd be in an unmarked cave somewhere, probably all moldy by now and nearly blind from squinting in the dark.  Instead, I am incredibly grateful that God wouldn't let that happen, even to a woman like me.  And what He has done for me, He is ready to do for you.

He redeemed my soul from going down to the pit, and I will live to enjoy the light  - Job 33:28

Good, right?! I told you.  Oh, by the way, you should really buy the book.

Reading through it, again and again, made me focus on the ways I have experienced redemption in the past two years.

• I used to cry every.single.day.  Now, I don't! Speaking of, do you ever cry at those new Fisher-Price Christmas commercials?? No? Me neither.
• I'm not constantly consumed by who, what, when, where and why.  When everything first happened, I was completely obsessed with finding out the truth.  I never found out too much.   These days, I have learned to be okay with the fact that I won't ever know everything.  And that's okay.  Actually, I don't think I WANT to know much more.  Each little piece of information tears out a piece of your heart, and I've learned the hard way that the knowledge isn't worth the price.
• The peace I have now is something I felt was completely out of reach for me.  
• I'm getting a little wiser.  Wisdom is something I've really been trying to pursue recently. I've been reading the book of Proverbs and making a conscious effort to KNOW wisdom.  Proverbs 2:10-11 says "For wisdom will enter your heart, and knowledge will be pleasant to your soul.  Discretion will protect you, and understanding will guard you."  Homegirl, I don't know about you, but I want my soul to be pleasant and I want my little family to be protected and guarded by wisdom. As a single mom, you need LOTS of wisdom. I'm definitely not a expert on wisdom...I let my son bring a water gun into the bathtub the other night. NOT wise.  However, I'm pursuing it and I know God has redeemed my worry for His wisdom.  What a bargain! 
• My kids have survived thus far...and are happy and healthy.
• I have survived my kids.  
• I have had numerous people approach me with difficulties they are experiencing in their marriage. I have been able to offer them words of advice and pass on a little bit of the hope I have acquired in the past few years.  I remember how a few friends were my LIFELINE back then, and I am happy to be someone else's.

I can think of a hundred more, but I don't want to bore you. I want to know from you now!  Look back on your life. In what ways have you been redeemed?  Even if you dont want to share in a public forum, I encourage you to write them down.  I promise you that you will be so encouraged!