The Square Peg

It has been a year since we said good-bye to our boys and got on a plane to move from Georgia, USA to Germany. That long, tearful, sob-filled group hug was absolutely heart-wrenching. Ryan was 23 and Drew was 20 but despite their adult ages, they didn't want to let us go and they held on very tightly as we hugged and said all the things you say to the people you love most when you don't know when you're going to see them again. We didn't have the boys take us to the airport; instead we chose to say good-bye on the base, outside our hotel room. The Atlanta airport was nearly two hours away and I knew it would take that long for my swollen eyes and red, splotchy face to clear up (to say I look rough when I cry is putting it mildly). Saying good-bye to them was every bit as hard as I expected and simply thinking about it a year later still brings tears to my eyes.

We had 7 months to prepare for our move overseas. And while we knew we couldn't know every way our lives would change after we moved, we were very aware of the fact that our family would never be the same again. It wasn't just that we were turning a page; we were starting a new chapter, possibly even a new book in the "Miller Time Chronicles" series. There were so many questions that were yet to be answered. Questions like: would the boys be married by the time we moved back to the States? Where would they live? Would we have any grandchildren in 4 years? Would we like living in Germany? How would it feel to live in a country that doesn't have air conditioning, even though it gets well into the 90's during the summer? Would the Germans like us? What will it be like to live in a house without either of our kids?

It has been winter in our family...winter in that many things we knew before this season were going to die in a way; winter in the sense that part of our family life was going to become dormant for a season.

If I were to make a guess based on my friends' Facebook status updates, I'd say most people think winter is dark and dreary and makes them wish for the summer weather to return. A lot of people curse winter; some have even moved to Florida or Hawaii to avoid it. But given that we have to let go of some things in order to have room in our hands to receive new things, I think we should look at winter in a new way and maybe even consider welcoming it.

I enjoy winter. I love the snow and cooler temperatures. I love sleeping with the windows open and feeling the cool air around me as I'm tucked into a warm bed under a big, billowy comforter and surrounded by pillows. I seldom want to curl up in a blanket and snuggle to watch a movie in the summer (especially not in the south), but it's almost a daily desire in the winter. I love what winter brings: spicy scented candles (nobody burns a pumpkin pie candle in June); a whirlwind of seasonal decorations; hearty soups and stews; even different colored clothing and hair (have you ever noticed most winter clothes are darker and more muted in color--and that many women put blond in their hair during the summer but go dark for winter?). I love these things even though I don't necessarily want them all year long (although, after living in the south for 17 years, I'd like to experience a season other than summer from March-November!).

During the winter, things die off or become dormant: grass, flowers, plants, etc. But just because you can't see the flower's blooms, doesn't mean it's not under the surface, waiting for the right time to pop out of the ground and beautify your life again.

A few months after we left Georgia, we found out both boys would be making us grandparents just before spring arrives. Rhody and Emma are the newest bulbs in the Miller family garden. Some of the answers to our questions are growing and being answered much sooner than we expected. LOL Others are still a mystery.

Winter can be cold and hard, but winter is like challenging seasons in our lives; it precedes spring. Spring brings new life, new hope, and new promises. But you can't have spring without going through winter first. Some winters are mild, some are extreme. But don't curse the cold or get discouraged by the dormancy of the season; hang in there and try to enjoy the unique comforts of the winter. And even if this spring isn't exactly like last spring, that doesn't mean it won't be amazing.

Embrace winter.
This post is part of the One Word at a Time blog carnival. Please go to Peter's page to read more entries and to submit one of your own.

I think joy is intentional. I also think it's related to peace, as well as happiness.

Joy is intentional. 
There are a million reasons to become upset, hurt, angry, bitter, and depressed in life. People will spitefully use you, maliciously hurt you, take advantage of you, and sometimes even blame you for their own self-destruction. Money won't always be your BFF; neither will your health. And possibly not even a job.

But you can intentionally seek reasons to be joyful.

Christians are supposed to have a hope in Christ, but I know some atheist, agnostic, and humanist friends who are more hopeful during trying times than some of the Christians I know. And we all know someone who is negative about everything, no matter what's going on in his life. You know who I'm talking about: the person you're afraid to ask how things are going because you know he's actually going to tell you. I know a woman who is so negative, that on the occasions when I bump into her, I walk away feeling verbally assaulted with all of her negativity and dissatisfaction with everything around her. And to make it worse, she's a topper. So if she's having it bad, her bad is worse than any bad anyone else has ever had. And her great times are superior to everyone else's as well, although they're few and far in between. It's hard for me to be any kind of friend to this gal because it doesn't seem like she wants to be happy, and I'm a fixer by nature.

Joy is related to peace.
Intentionally looking for reasons to be joyful often brings me around to re-examining my core beliefs and ultimately, I find peace.

I am an eternally optimist person. One of my deeply held beliefs is that things work out well in the end. When things aren't looking good, I'm convinced it's not the end. I'm still sitting in my seat, waiting for the fat lady to sing.

I've navigated my fair share of life's hardships. And I can honestly tell you that through all of them, I have believed that some how, some way, at some point, things will make sense and they'll work out for the best. Now, that 'best' isn't always what I thought was best, but I've always been able to look back on a situation or season after it was over and see that what it ended up looking like was indeed, for the best. Including the two-month marriage to my physically abusive ex-husband, as well as the ensuing two years it took me to legally get him out of my life. It was a pretty rough season in my life, but when I look back on that tumultuous time, I can definitively say I never felt alone. And that's a peace that brings joy.
It's hard to stay cranky and bitter when you trust the One who says He loves you and has you in the palm of His hand. I personally believe God loves us simply because we exist. After all, that's why I love my kids. My love for them never hinges on their behavior and I expect God is the same. When I find that I'm having a pretty easy time gettin my grumpy on, it's usually because I'm not confident that God is still on the throne. Thinking I'm here alone feeling lost and abandoned makes me do crazy, desperate things. But stopping to catch my breath, and remembering the things I've already experienced relating to God's character, usually brings the proverbial cold water splash to the face that snaps me back to a reality of confident knowledge. And that leads to happiness because I am able to intentionally find some joy in life.

Let's take off that Garment of Grumpiness and go find some joy. Cause our Daddy loves us like no other and despite how we might "feel", that actually means something. And let's not trust our emotions all the time; they have a tendency to take off and when they do, we don't want to be on board.

Eva

Patience is a great character trait to possess. I've personally never been accused of having any. LOL

But there is a type of patience that doesn't have quite as much to do with different personality bends, tendencies or temperaments. I'm referring to the patience that carries our faith during rough times, and to be honest, I think we need to shift some of our focus toward developing this fruit of the spirit within ourselves.

When we're in dire straits, it's tempting to think God has stopped caring about us, abandoned and forgotten us. And the reason we think those things is because we assume (and often consequently believe) He's like us and gets annoyed with us like we do with each other and ourselves. I've said it before and I'll say it again: God's love isn't like our love. And if we'd get a strong grasp on the reality that God's love for us is pure and without blemish or imperfections, not to mention unconditional, we'd be different people. Less insecure, greedy, and angry; more generous, forgiving, and merciful. Because when we believe there's plenty to go around, we're more apt to be a conduit than a dam.

But what about the development of our faith? Do we want to be solid, unwavering followers of Christ whose belief and understanding of the character of God serves as a steadfast anchor that carries our faith to the other side of tough situations, confusing circumstances and challenges? And if our answer is yes, what do we think it takes to arrive at that kind of faith?

Finish this sentence: "when the going gets tough, the tough _______________." How we finish the sentence is what separates the men from the boys. This is where the rubber meets the road. Now my theories and beliefs aren't pie-in-the-sky anymore; they're ham-where-I-am. It's here we discover whether we've got big girl panties on or if we need a diaper change. And it's OK if we need a diaper change; diapers are necessary for a season. But do we want to stay in diapers forever? Do we really want to have somebody else cleaning us off or do we want to mature, become a little more independent, and go forward on our own?

If we want to continue growing, how do we develop this kind of patience that perseveres through the dark times? You're not going to like my answer. By going through it. Joyce Meyer said it best: "You've got to go through to get through; there are no drive-thru breakthroughs."

I don't think God needs any more weekend warriors; I think He needs some folks who are willing to dot their I's and cross their T's, some folks who are willing to get a Wal-Mart spanking if that's what it takes to bring Him glory, some folks who are willing to work through things instead of just curling up in the fetal position and checking out of life (even though that's what we all want to do).

Joseph (coat of many colors Joseph) didn't have a dream about ruling over Egypt one night and wake up with that authority the next morning. David wasn't anointed on Friday and and then turn around and plant his blessed assurance on the throne first thing Monday morning. There was some stuff that happened between dreaming about ruling and actually ruling. Some really awful, unfair, heart-breaking kind of stuff. And like Joseph, David faced some serious opposition after being anointed King and before taking over the throne. In fact, David was living in the King's palace when the current King tried to kill him by throwing his spear at him--more than once--knowing David was already chosen by God to be king!

I propose that when spears are being tossed our way, we gather up the guts to employ David's response to the king's attempts to snuff out his life: duck and keep going. Or take Joseph's stand and choose to serve the people around us even though unfair circumstances took us to a place we never deserved or wanted. And when the people we served forget about us after we've been instrumental in helping them gain their freedom (and they will), let's not stop to point out the injustice of the situation, complain to the Manager, go on strike, plot revenge, cop a bad attitude or justify our bitterness as a proper response to the situation. Let's go back to serving the people around us and stay on course because in the end, we really want to be found faithful. Other people don't answer for us and we don't answer for them.

When I think about the people I admire most, the people whom I consider to be strong, wise, and who possess the fortitude to face hard times with confidence in God without wavering in their faith, their common denominator is that they're people who've been through the wringer and came out better for having let patience carry their faith to the other side. They didn't give up. They didn't give in. They didn't succumb to apathy. Neither should I. And neither should you.

Stand strong.

*********
You can read more entries on today's blog carnival topic here.

The peace sign is often associated with the 70s and/or hippies, but peace isn't just some hippie ideal. At least, it shouldn't be. People try to manufacture peace, either for themselves or for others. Info-mercials promise better rest, better air quality, more money, a better body, etc, so we can have peaceful lives. Politicians promise to change the government, laws, and administration so we can have peace in the world. But you and I both know synthetic peace is a poor substitute for the real thing. Besides, you can't give what you don't have.



Peace doesn't mean lack of noise, war, hatred, etc. We'll never eradicate those things from this world, but does that mean we shouldn't pursue/promote it? In the words of Balki Bartokomous: "Of course not, don't be ridiculous." Should we consider a paradigm shift regarding peace and its role in our lives? Absolutely.

I believe the real thing should and can reside within us.

In John 14 (the message), Jesus said:

The NIV reads this way:
But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you. ²⁷Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

I used to spend a lot of time worrying. And I was good at it, too; I not only worried about the stuff I couldn't control, I worried about the stuff I could control. But the more I read my Bible and meditated on what Jesus had to say, the more I realized I was starting to resemble the double minded man referred to in the book of James. I was going to church, saying the right things and singing the right songs, but I wouldn't have recognized peace if it walked up and slapped me across the face.

At one point, after I'd spent a fair amount of time praying (which, in this case, is code for complaining to God that He wasn't fixing things in my life fast enough or good enough to suit me), this question popped into my head: do I believe what He said more than I believe my emotions and what I'm able to see? Ouch. Yikes.

Mistrust is the enemy of peace. It's that simple. If we don't trust God when He says He loves us like no other can, and believe that He's always working for and with us, we'll never experience true peace. And we'll continue to seek and chase something that is isn't hiding or running from us. Peace isn't the absence of war, uncertainty or problems. It's the trust that your Creator has your back and is big enough to take care of things in ways you never imagined possible.

Today's all-skate question: what have you been trying to fix yourself instead of peacefully putting it down to let God handle?

There are so many directions I could've gone with this blog carnival topic, it was hard to make a choice. Mine is one of many posts on the subject today; please click on the hyperlink above to read other posts. I'm sure they'll challenge and comfort you.

Bridget is hosting today's blog carnival. It's open to everyone; if you want to participate, go to her page and leave a comment with a link to your blog after you've posted your entry.

Love is the most powerful force in the universe. And from where I'm sitting, it seems there are 3 categories of 'love' we experience most often.

Casual - This is the kind of love we hear and see the most yet it has the shallowest meaning. It's never meant  in a deep, committed, or sacrificial kind of way.
"I love those shoes."
"I love your hair."
"I love to play golf."
"I love that song."
Casual love doesn't require us to do anything. We can use the word love to describe our feelings and not suffer any consequences when we change our mind. If you don't love those shoes any more, you just stop wearing them. Nobody cares and you won't be held accountable.  

Convenient - This is pretty straight-forward; as long as it's working, we love it.
I used to say I loved Arby's fast food until I lived in Wichita Falls, Texas. The only store in the city was located at the bottom of an exit off the freeway, didn't have a drive-thru and only took cash; no checks or debit cards. You had to really want Arby's to go there. After a few times of spending 30 minutes of my busy life trying to find a parking spot, walking inside and waiting in line, followed by sitting in traffic to get back on the freeway, I realized I didn't really love Arby's as much as I thought or claimed. The hassle wasn't worth the reward.

Sometimes it's convenient to love someone we think we can get something from...whether it's an inheritance, something he/she can do or provide that propels us forward at work, or gives us leverage, position, status or power.

This type of love has hurt me the most personally. Discovering I was convenient to love (and subsequently stop loving) cuts me deeper than being loved casually or conditionally for some reason and leaves me feeling like I've been sucker punched.

Conditional - This is closely related to convenient love but this is typically based on our performance (or lack thereof).
"You obviously don't have what it takes to be with someone like me"
"You called a few times but did you ever come over or offer to help financially?"
"If you can't try to understand me or what I need, then maybe we don't have anything worth fighting to save."

Since no one is able to perform the right way all the time, this type of love is extremely frustrating and typically unfair. It's pretty easy to spot though, because it doesn't take long to rear its ugly head.

Much of the time people who are love casually, conveniently or conditionally aren't even aware of it.

But there is another kind of love. And it also starts with a C.

It's Christ's love. But His love isn't anything like the ones I listed previously. In fact, His love is the polar opposite because there's nothing casual, convenient, or conditional about His love for humanity. He's committed to us. He's all in. He's true blue.

But I think we sometimes try to put His love in the first three categories because we have a hard time grasping it. If I don't love you unconditionally, it's pretty easy for me to assume that God doesn't love me unconditionally, either. But that's so wrong...

If you have only experienced the first three types of love I listed, please hear me: God has crazy love for us and it's not affected by our performance, lack of faith, mistakes/failures, accolades we've received, our ability to study/teach His text, or make money.
He loves us because we exist.
And anyone who tells you otherwise is lying to you.

Some despise it.
Some have been hurt by it.
Some haven't 'represented' it very well.

But...
Our knowledge won't increase it...
                                 Our inabilities won't hinder it...
                                                               Our failures won't paralyze it...
                                                                                            Our enemy won't prevail against it...

It really is worth far more than we can begin to comprehend.

Except it's not an it.
We are it.
It is us.
It's a body.
It's a person.
It's the bride.
And the bride is cherished by a deeply, devoted King.


Thanks, Bridget. :D

Thanks for hosting today's blog carnival, Peter.

When people hear the word grief, thoughts typically gravitate toward the death of a friend or family member. But grief reaches beyond death, and today I'm going to share a couple of the things I'm grieving.

• I'm grieving a relationship that appears to have ended. I knew it was going to change but I expected the change to come after I moved. I knew I'd miss my friend and our time together, but I never dreamed I'd miss her while I was still living here. My heart wasn't prepared for this and I'm struggling to accept the way things are right now.
  

•  I attend a really amazing church and with each week that goes by, I become increasingly aware of how much I'm going to miss it. Podcasts are posted online but it won't be the same as being there. I've never felt like I belonged or fit in any church I've attended as much as Lifepoint.
  

• And five months later, it still feels weird without Mocha being a part of our evening walks.

Because I believe we can't fully appreciate life, joy, fun or happiness without experiencing grief, I won't fixate on what's missing. I'll turn my focus to what I have had: fun memories with my friend; I'll purposefully resist the temptation to compare every church we visit to LP, and I'll remember the nine years we spent laughing at our chocolate lab, throwing her tennis ball so much I thought my arm was going to fall off, and the way she seemed to believe everyone who entered our house was here to play ball or swim with her. And in a weird way, it's comforting to know this season of life will serve to grow and stretch me as much (or more) as any other.

Peace.

I wasn't going to participate in today's blog carnival because the nomadic lifestyle I've lived hasn't allowed me to belong to a community for more than a few years at a time. But I thought about it a lot and after looking up the definition of community, I realized living in so many different places in my 42 years formed opinions about community that I'd actually like to share with you.

Spokane, Washington - my first community as a military wife. I probably grew more in this community than the others I've lived in. This is where I discovered my desire to have a real relationship with God. It was here that I had to learn to put my big girls panties on because my mommy was about 3,000 miles away and couldn't come to my aid every time something went wrong. Drewby was born here. And it was here that I met people who weren't family, yet cared for me as though I was. On the day Moose left for his one year deployment to Korea my friend Carla drove us to the airport to drop Moose off. When we got back to her car she presented me with a gift; a cookie jar with a custom-painted lid that matched my kitchen decor. Gifts are not my primary love language (that might be why I'm not good at giving them) but something about her thoughtfulness that day really ministered to me. I've never forgotten it.

Panama Canal Zone - the first community I'm able to remember. I was 5 when I lived there. Our apartment was on the fifth floor and the Panamanian kids who lived across the street would come running over when I would walk out on the balcony to feed our dog. When the pieces of dog food would inevitably fall over the ledge, the kids would fight over them because they were hungry and their families didn't have enough food to go around. I watched kids...fight to eat my dog's food. And I knew then I wanted to feed hungry people whenever possible. It was in this community that my beliefs about ethnicity began to form and I realized skin color didn't matter because we're all the same on the inside.

Warner Robins, Georgia - If you count both times we've been stationed here, I've been in this community the longest. I love the spirit in this city and it's a great place to raise a family. I've met some pretty neat people and it's going to be hard to say good-bye to them when I leave in a few weeks. I love my neighborhood and will miss it very much. It's quiet, established, and unbelievably beautiful in the spring when the azaleas and dogwoods bloom. I walk Zoe around our block most mornings and every evening and I love the images, smells and neighbors that I pass. I will fondly think of goth girl, who has long, black hair and always dresses in black clothes and shoes and seems barely able to eek out a smile when we greet her as we pass. And beer guy and gal, who go out for their evening stroll, each of them holding their beer can, with the soft-sided cooler holding the extra beer slung over his shoulder. Sometimes their stroll is more of a stumble, but they're always friendly and always smiling. And I'll miss the cloud of lavendar I walk into when we get near John & Kim's house (yes, I actually know someone's real name!). I guess it could be fabric softener that I smell, but I've tried 'em all and none of mine have ever smelled like that. In any case, I like that smell. And I like this community.

And finally, Starbucks. What, you don't think that's a community? Well, I've got news for you, it is. And while the coffee's great, I really love going because of the wonderful mix of the community that I see there. We can go there with our young, vegetarian, non-caffeine drinking, Bible studying, atheist, pagan, gay, ultra conservative, stuffy, free-spirited hippie, old, uber liberal, tattooed, nerdy, civilian, pierced, camouflaged fellow community members and enjoy each other's company while we sip our drinks or share a smackeral of something. Everyone from the freaks to the fanatics are welcome at Starbucks. And community, at its core, is nothing if not inclusive.

Thanks for hosting, Bridget.

I'm participating in a one word blog carnival and today's topic is "remember". Thanks to Peter Pollock for hosting.

When I hear the word 'remember', I don't think about lists to prevent me from forgetting items at the commissary (that's military-speak for 'grocery store'), where I left my keys, or that the dog needs a walk later. For some reason, when I hear the word 'remember' I think about where we came from, our backgrounds, and the feelings, relationships and circumstances that shape us and make us into who we are.

my grandfather and the #1 piece of marital advice he gave me over and over in his thick, rich, deep, Hungarian accent when he was alive. "Love each other, Evi, and don't fight." I remember the way he used to look at me. Not just glance at what I was wearing, or at my lips as I spoke so he could understand what American word I was saying, but the way he looked at me and how I could physically see his love for me on his face. He was taken as a political prisoner of war when the Russians invaded Hungary. He eventually escaped by cutting a fence with a pair of pliers only to find that while he was in prison his wife divorced him, took their daughter Eva, and left the country. It was because of his suggestion that I got my name. Mom wanted to name me something common like Stephanie or Nicole (no offense to readers whose name are Stephanie or Nicole) but he asked Mom if I could be called Eva. I'm glad she agreed because I love my name and its meaning suits me perfectly. It means 'life'.

the prisoners of war. If we can't find them and bring them home, the least we can do is remember them. All gave some, some gave all.

people need to be told they're loved and appreciated. We're all afraid of being forgotten, whether we'll admit it or not. Saying good-bye to friends goes with the territory of being a military wife, but I've become adept at showing people how I feel about them while I'm enjoying their friendship, not just when it's time to move to another base and the fun has to come to an end.

the people/things who affected change in my life.
**Like Lisa Riddle, who let me ask any and every question about homeschooling I could come up with when I started entertaining the idea of schooling Ryan at home. I probably drove her crazy, but she was a trooper. I educated our boys at home for their entire high school career and it was partly because she let me ask questions and ponder my beliefs about parenting, education, and responsibility.
**Like Mrs. Pruett, whose constant reminder throughout my senior year of high school of 'it's easier to keep up than to catch up" deeply influenced my schedule of housework, tasks in the workplace (back when I had a job that actually paid me for my organizational and management skills), and still helps me when organizing big projects and determining the importance of various tasks.
**Like my husband who is never, ever ungracious to people, even when they deserve it. He always takes the high road and never stoops to someone else's level. I love that.
**Like Rick Godwin whose book Training for Reigning helped me realize that little areas of faithfulness are big indicators of trust, responsibility, and character qualities as well as capacities. If you can't handle picking up trash in the church parking lot without getting an attitude, you'll never be able to lead that flock as their pastor. I'm just sayin'.
**Like Fred Rogers, whose children's TV show convinced me that I (as well as all others) really did have value. Laugh if you want, but I never hear the word 'neighbor' without thinking of Mr. Rogers, his sweater, and the shoes he changed into each day. In fact, the six-year-old next-door calls me "neighbor" because she can't remember my name. And every time she does, I smile - and remember Mr. Rogers.