Change

Life is all about changes.

Good. Bad.  And otherwise.

As much as we want things to stay the same, especially if we are in a good spot, they keep changing.

Your family of 5 unexpectedly becomes a party of 6.

A friend is diagnosed with cancer.

Your children's nanny leaves for college.

A grandparent is moved into a nursing home.

Your friend moves to another state.

Things always seem to change.  And how you perceive those changes depends a lot on which side of the change you are on.

I can easily and honestly say that I do not like change.  I may even go as far as saying that I. hate. change.  There are these people out there who thrive on change.  I am not one of them.

I cry at the start of every school year, and I cry at the end of every school year, because they both represent change (and growth).  A new teacher.  A new summer schedule.  New classroom expectations.  New. New. New.  I just want to stick with the familiar and "old."  I offered to pay one of my child's teachers to homeschool them for the rest of their life.  The teacher did not take the bait.  As if.

But maybe it's not the change itself that is hard, but instead just the anticipation of it all that gets me.  Not sure.

Going into my fast I knew that it would be challenging and a big change.  Although I didn't go in kicking and screaming, I wasn't exactly excited about it.  Case in point, the time that I walked out of Target empty handed and quite huffy because of it.  As I walked through the parking lot I had a little chat with my Jesus...asking him for something good to come out of what I was doing.(Testing. Testing. 1-2-3)  

I knew 6 months ago that a change needed to happen in me.  Through me.  For me.  But I didn't know what that change would be, until I agreed to this fast.  

Today is my last official day of my fast.  

Tomorrow I am free.  

I'm just sure Martin Luther King Jr. was thinking of the end my fast when he spoke the words, "Free at last, Free at last, thank God almighty I am(we are) free at last."

Maybe not. 

Anyway, I will be free as a bird to shop to my heart's content, and there isn't a thing you can say about it.  Well, except maybe my man.  He can pry say something about it.  But I pry won't go shopping.  Mostly because it's Tulip Time in our quaint little Dutch town.  Oh, ok, fine.  I guess maybe, just maybe, refraining from shopping tomorrow has less to do with parades and good food filling my schedule and more to do with the fact that something really has changed in me over the last 6 months.  Not the kind of change that makes me do an embarrassing blubbery cry, but the kind of change that I didn't even realize was taking place.

So what has changed in me, you are wondering.  Hmm.    

Not sure I can answer that questions exactly I guess.  Can't quite put my finger on one specific thing.

But I have changed. 

And I know that I don't really want to go back to who I was on Day 1 of Many.

I am reading this book(because, you know, that is all I really do all day besides eat bon-bons and watch soap operas) entitled Bittersweet by Shauna Niequist.  It's a great book, one in which Shauna shares her thoughts on change, grace and learning the hard way.  Following is a paragraph that hit home, especially at the end of my fast...

I now know that I can make it through more than I thought, with less than I thought.  I know better than to believe that the changes are over, and I know better than to believe the next ones will be easier, but I've learned the hard way that change is one of God's greatest gifts and one of his most useful tools.  I've learned the hard way that change can push us, pull us, rebuke and remake us.  It can show us who we've become, in the worst ways, and also in the best ways.  I've learned that it's not something to run away from, as though we could, and I've learned that in many cases, change is not a function of life's cruelty but instead a function of God's graciousness.

I keep praying that God will reveal to me what my next step is...but He must be on vacay with the rest of this town in anticipation of Tulip Time this weekend, because He has not revealed it to me yet.  

Am I going to keep blogging?  Not sure.

Am I going to keep fasting?  Don't know.

Am I open to whatever, whatever God calls me to, even if it's a big change?  Think so.


Please note that there are no words for me to tell you how much I have appreciated all of you walking with me the past 6 months.  I have laughed at myself and my posts a lot, I have cried a few times while typing, and I have fought off the devil with the help of my God...and I hope that you have been blessed through all of it.

I would love to receive any feedback regarding my blog or stories of how God has changed you either on Facebook, in the comment space below, or via e-mail: zldevries@hotmail.com.  No hate mail please. 

Never

What, never?

No, never.

What, never?

Well, hardly ever!

-William Schwenck Gilbert, H.M.S. Pinafore

This little quote does a great job of conveying what I have said and felt many, many times in my life.

Following is my Top 5 list of things I said I would never, no, never do.

1.  Be a model.  This one is kind of a weird one.  It goes back to those junior high days when you are all dreaming about what you want to do or be someday, and I'm just sure I would say this one so that I could perhaps gain a little attention.  Then when my friends would ask why I would never be a model I could point at my face and create a whole lot of awkwardness...because, you know, j-high isn't awkward enough on it's own.  Then a couple of years ago I was doing some volunteer work for Many Hands for Haiti, and they asked me to model some of their jewelry for their Solid Ground website.  Who would have guessed.  I didn't think they were still using my picture, but behold, there it is on the 'necklace' tab.  Be sure to check it out because they have cute jewelry, along with coffee, home décor, apparel, and hot sauce.

2. Be a stay-at-home mom.  Sorry kids, hate to break it to you, but prior to having children I had high hopes of doing something.  I'm not sure what, but something.  Changing diapers and having baby conversations all day was never on my radar.  Then this little thing started growing inside me, kicking me in all the wrong spots, giving me all sorts of heartburn, and contorting my body into a shape I didn't know was possible, and all the sudden I knew that there wasn't anywhere else I would want to be besides home with my baby.  Now don't get me wrong, there are days now that I dream of a job outside this house, but then I remember that I can't wear sweats, a ponytail, and flip-flops to that certain job, and the dream quickly becomes a nightmare, and I am back to thinking that there isn't anywhere else in the world that I would want to be.  And then my kids start fighting and I start dreaming again...

3.  Run a 5k.  Again, this one is a bit strange, but I have never really enjoyed running, or if we're being accurate, jogging.  In high school I played basketball, or as my brother would say, "I was on the team," and I was always that last one crossing the line during sprints.  I much preferred the laid-back tempo of golf.  Walking and swinging a club, I can do.  Running for fun, no way, never.  Until I married this crazy man who loves to be active and outdoors and he decided to sign me up for 5k after 5k.  Now I can jog a 5k, perhaps even without dying.

4.  Have 4 kids.  And again, sorry children, particularly #4.  But by the time you are old enough to read this I pry won't be "cool" anymore, so you won't even know these posts exist.  My man and I always talked about having 2, maybe 3 kids.  Never 4.  We knew our limits, and they ended at man-to-man parental defense  Well, let me tell you something, God has a sense of humor, and if you've ever met our #4 you know this to be true.  Here we are over 3 years into being parents of 4 kids, and not only are we surviving, but I feel like maybe at least 5 minutes of everyday(after the kids go to bed) we are even thriving at this parenting thing.

5.  Last 6 months without shopping for clothes.  When I started my fast just under 6 months ago I was pretty sure I would fail, yet I was determined.  Never had I gone more than, let's just say a month, for the sake of my man reading this, without buying clothes for either myself or my children.  Now that I am just a few days away from being done with my fast I know that it is possible to wear the same cardigan layered over different items and still be cute...although my man would disagree with me that any of my cardigans are cute.  I know that we are all sick of this cold, dreary spring, but let me tell you something...it has been an answer to my prayers!  I have not had the need to shop for anything really for anybody because we all have cold weather clothes that fits.  I have picked up a t-shirt here and there for the kids, anticipating that at some point it in the next few weeks months it will be nice enough for them to need them, but I have held strong in the ladies-department and left it all hanging on the rack.  I would like to think that my fast has something to do with the crazy weather pattern.  You know, God's way of making this fast a bit easier, but then I would have the whole mid-west mad at me, so I'm just going to blame it on global warming...or lack there-of.

What is my point here, you are wondering, because you know, every good post has to have a point.  My point is that when I have said "NEVER", God has said, "Uh-huh, that's what you think.  Watch this."  It's like when you pray for patience, and then all the sudden you have these crazy patience-buidling things happen to you, like waiting in a check-out line at Christmas time, or a husband who is late, or a 3 year old.  God sees the never and turns it into an always.


Please note that I have many, many more things that are going around in my head that I will never do, like sky diving, but believe me, I will not mention them to anybody until I am absolutely, positively sure I want God to make them into a reality.

30 years

The older I get, the more I realize how God has called us all to walk a different path in this life.  Some carry the burden of being overweight, while others are battling cancer, others struggle internally with self esteem issues, some are dealing with broken marriages, and still others are addicted to drugs.  We each have a cross to bear.  God has created us all for different reasons, with different stories to share.  A little over a month ago I shared my daughter's story, and today it's my turn to share my story.

Here we go.

30 years ago today my mom, brother, and I set out for the Easter Sunday service at our country church.  My dad wasn't feeling well and decided to stay home. The ground was covered with snow, the remains of a bad storm, as we left our little house in town, to set out for church.

Shortly after we were out of town my mom lost control of our vehicle on the ice covered road and we hit an on-coming pickup head on.  

As was the custom that many years ago, we were all sitting in the front seats and none of us were in seat belts, and although my mom tried her best to act as a human seat belt, I slipped under her arm and my face hit the dash of our car, shattering my nose and left eye socket and pushing my left eye back into my head about an inch.  My brother was pinned in the car, and my mom's head hit the windshield knocking out a number of teeth and she also broke her arm and cut her leg.

But God was on our side.  His angels were busy that day orchestrating the events that happened from that point on.  A doctor drove up on our accident while on his way to Easter lunch and stopped to help; the fire department and ambulance crew responded immediately, including my dad who was a member of the fire department; my grandparents were all pulled out of their Easter services and were able to make it to us to be with us; prayers were being sent up immediately on our behalf.

We were all taken by ambulance to the nearest hospital, then after further examination it was evident that I needed to go on, so we were all transferred to Mercy Hospital in Mason City, and then I was quickly transferred to Saint Mary's Hospital in Rochester, Minnesota.

At the ripe age of 4, I had a plastic surgeon.  Tummy tucks and a new chest he never provided, but he did perform over 20 facial reconstructive surgeries on me over the next 17 years, including the initial surgery that was performed to replace my nose and eye brow and repair my left eye.

There are so many more details to this story, but I will end it there.  

So often growing up I struggled with "why me?"  And as I have become an adult I have started asking myself a different question "why not me?"  God has used that horrible car accident to mold me and shape me into who I am today.  My stomach still flips anytime I see stitches or hear of somebody getting staples; my kids ride in the backseat of my truck with their seat belts on out of fear that the same would happen to them; but I look at my life and know that I am alive only for His glory...crooked nose and scars that will never quite fade and all.

In Max Lucado's book It's Not About Me he repeats over and over how this life that I am living here is not about me, it's not for my glory or my fame, but for God's alone.  Here are a few of my favorite reminders:

-God's priority is his glory.  He occupies center stage; I carry props.  He's the message; I'm but a word.

-Reduce the human job description down to one phrase, and this is it: Reflect God's glory.

-It's not about us, and it angers him when we think it is.

-God does not exist to make a big deal out of us.  We exist to make a big deal out of him.  It's not about you.  It's not about me.  It's all about him.

So on a day like this, the 30th "anniversary" of our car accident, it's so easy for me to get wrapped up in the what-if's, the pain of the past 30 years, the poor me mentality.  But then I am reminded that I am just here to reflect God's glory, and how can I do that when I beg for the spotlight.  

I can't.

I will never know what my mom and dad, brother, and many others who walked with me through that day went through.  But I am confident that God wrote this story just for me, and I am sure of this:

The Lord Himself goes before me(you) and He will be with me;

  He will never leave me nor forsake me.

    Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.

-Deuteronomy 31:8

After our car accident my Grandma made a book for me, so that even though I was too young to remember what God had done for us, I would be able to look back and see that He was and is faithful.  She included this poem in my book by an unknown author, and I think it still speaks to me today:

He Cared Enough to Send the Very Best

 My Father's way may twist and turn, my heart may throb and ache,

But in my soul I'm glad I know, He maketh no mistake.

My cherished plans may go astray,

My hopes may fade away;

But still I'll trust my Lord to lead

for he doth know the way.

There's so much now I cannot see, my eyesight's far too dim;

But come what may, I'll simply trust, and leave it all to him.

For by and by the mist will lift, and plain

it all he'll make,

Through all the way, tho' dark to me,

He made not one mistake!

Please note that I did not share my story with you to seek out your pity, but rather to challenge you to reflect on God's faithfulness in your own life...and perhaps to bump you off of center stage to make room for Him.

Love

I remember the first time I fell in love.  I thought I had been in love once before, but then this other came along and showed me what true love really looked like.  True love sacrifices oneself for the sake of the other...true love gives when the tank is completely empty...true love sees beauty when the rest of the world sees scars...true love offers forgiveness when the devil has tempted beyond self control.

The second time I fell in love was when my first child was born.  The instant that he breathed his first breath, I knew that I would die for that child if I had to.  And all of the sudden all those things I had read when I was younger about our Heavenly Father and His great love for us made perfect sense.  I understood the idea of laying down ones life for another.  I would do that for any of my children in a heartbeat.

That love.  That great love that the Father has for us comes to head during this Holy Week.

Max Lucado put it so well in his book It's Not About Me, when he stated the following...
"Want to see the size of my love?" he[God] invites.  "Ascend the winding path outside of Jerusalem.  Follow the dots of bloody dirt until you crest the hill.  Before looking up, pause and hear me whisper, 'This is how much I love you.'"

Whip-ripped muscles drape his back.  Blood rivulets over his face.  His eyes and lips are swollen shut.  Pain rages at wildfire intensity.  As he sinks to relieve the agony of his legs, his airway closes.  At the edge of suffocation, he shoves pierced muscles against the spike and inches up the cross.  He does this for hours.  Painfully up and down until his strength and our doubts are gone.

Does God love you?  Behold the cross, and behold your answer.

And as I'm reading this I can hear Him whisper to me, "This is how much I love you...I rescued you from near fatality at age 4...I blessed you with a man who loves you for exactly who you are...I sent my angel armies to protect your youngest from death...I healed your son's ears when you boldly called on my name...I have walked beside you everyday of your fast...I sent my only son to die for you..."

On Sunday we sang the song, "How Deep the Father's Love For Us," and if I hadn't been leading worship, I would have been standing in my pew weeping like a child.  This song is just that good...

...and what my Jesus did for me is even better...

What shall we say about such wonderful things as these? If God is for us, who can ever be against us?  Since he did not spare even his own Son but gave him up for us all, won’t he also give us everything else?  Who dares accuse us whom God has chosen for his own? No one—for God himself has given us right standing with himself.  Who then will condemn us? No one—for Christ Jesus died for us and was raised to life for us, and he is sitting in the place of honor at God’s right hand, pleading for us.

Can anything ever separate us from Christ’s love? Does it mean he no longer loves us if we have trouble or calamity, or are persecuted, or hungry, or destitute, or in danger, or threatened with death?  (As the Scriptures say, “For your sake we are killed every day; we are being slaughtered like sheep.”)  No, despite all these things, overwhelming victory is ours through Christ, who loved us.

And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love.  No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.

-Romans 8:31-39, NLT

Please note that it is my prayer that you all experience the love of God this Easter as we lay our burdens down and rejoice a King who saves.

Bunny

Lent is upon us, and the Easter bunny is knocking at my door.  I do love this time of year, when we can bid winter a long over-due farewell and watch the flowers and grasses come to life right before our eyes.  Then you throw in the redemptive Easter story and you have a prescription to rid away any and all winter blues.

When I was growing up I very clearly remember how important it was to dress the part on Easter.  My grandma made most of my new Easter dresses, but at some point I grew out of that, and my mom would take me shopping to find just the right one.  It had to have white on it, so it would match my bonnet, gloves, white patented leather shoes, and white ruffle socks.  If you are 30 or older, you know just what I'm talking about.

One year Super Valu(again, you have to be 3o or older to know what/where that was) brought in a big old bunny and you could pay $7.99(or some ridiculous amount of money) to have your picture taken with it...and after viewing it below you will wonder why my mom not only paid money for it, but also why she ordered any prints of it to begin with.  Be still my bad boy haircut and my brother's mullet...my mom drug us in there well past the age that it was socially acceptable, or even cute for that matter, and had our picture taken with the freaky bunny.  

For the love.  That is pure nastiness going on.  I have been scared to death of the easter bunny ever since.  No lie.

After having kids I thought dressing the part for Easter was just what we did.  It was expected that on Easter my children, and maybe me if I was lucky enough to stop shopping for them long enough to find a dress that would fit my post-pregnancy body, would show up at church donning our bright springy new duds.  Almost as if we couldn't celebrate Easter without new, and might I add matching, clothes.  One year I even went so far as to match all 6 of us, and a bed of tulips.

How presh.  

Too bad I have no idea what the preacher talked about that day.  But hey, we all looked cute together, and isn't that was really matters on Easter morning?

Not sure if it's my fast that is getting to me this year or what, but I am so over the whole "go buy new matching outfits for everyone in my family including, but not limited to, sweaters, accessories, shoes, shorts, hair bows, and shirts."  I cannot even do it.

Cannot.

Will not.

I will not succumb to the pressure this world is putting on me to appear as if I have it all together. 

Now, does that make me any better than the family I am sharing a bench with on Easter morning that is decked out from head to toe?  Absolutely not.  I stated long ago right here on my blog that this whole thing is about me, not you.  About changing me, not about making you feel guilty.  About taking a hard look at my heart, not about judging you and yours.

This year, well, I'm not even really sure what any of my peeps will be wearing on Easter morning.  And you know what?  That's ok.  It's ok.  It's ok for us to show up at church on Easter morning, and any other Sunday morning for that matter, a little mismatched and disheveled.  Because if I am showing up simply to put on a show; to make it appear that we have it all together; to tell my brothers and sisters in Christ how great and grand and perfect my life is, then I have missed the whole point of the redemption story.  When I am standing before Jesus someday I am pretty sure He will ask how I loved His sheep, and if all I can say is that I dressed my flock cute, I don't think that will cut it.

I have taken Christ's death and watered it down into being about me and how great I am, rather than it being about Him and what a great thing He has done for me and my not-so-perfect heart. 

If I'm being honest, there are a few, ok most, Sunday mornings that we are running out the door yelling, perhaps even screaming, at the kids to quick get their shoes on, grab the church bag, put on a jacket, and for the love, GET IN THE TRUCK NOW!  WE HAVE TO GO PRAISE JESUS! 

Thankfully we have a 10 minute drive to church to get our heart rate back down to a normal pace, reapply powder to cover the beads of sweat, and put on another layer of deodorant to cover up the "we are late for church" perspiration before we pull into the parking lot, smear on our happy "we love Jesus" faces, and dance into church.  

Whoever said that Sunday was a day of rest did.not.have.kids.  End of story.

Moving on.

This year, when we stumble through our church doors on Easter, and we file into our pew, I will look at my sweet little family of 6 who will be wearing whatever they can find in their closet that morning with whatever hand-me-down shoes they can find, and I will be reminded that Jesus doesn't command me to have it all together.  He does love me for my ability to match everyone on Sunday morning.  And He certainly doesn't care if Boo is wearing the same dress for Easter that her sister wore 3 years ago.  He wants my heart.  He wants me.  And He wants my love.  And praise the Lord that I can give that to Him even when I am wearing "old" clothes.

Please note that if that bunny picture I shared ever shows up anywhere besides my blog, there will be some serious consequences...you all have ugly pictures to share too, and I know just who to call to get them.  Consider yourself warned.