A Desert at the Beach

To see the "vacation recap" of my trip to Virginia Beach, you can go back to my May archives and read through them.

But back in May, you didn't know about my desert...so today I want to share with you the flip side of the trip.

The heart-side.

As you can probably tell from the last post, the day I arrived was emotional and exhausting. I'd driven on the interstate the night before my flight, in order to get to my sister's house. You know how I feel about interstates! That particular night, I was flipped off by a driver and missed my exit, so you can imagine my spirits upon arrival at Julie's. Add to that the lack of sleep due to nerves, a full day of flying...and I was just one tuckered mess.

Our first order of business was to visit the Norfolk Botanical Gardens, which I loved, but one of the sights we saw was the stunning terrace where weddings are held...and that was the last little bit my heart could take. When we arrived back at Mark and Lynnette's apartment, I collapsed in her lap and cried. She was the perfect best friend that day. She cried with me (every girl knows that is a must), she didn't try to fix it, she listened with great sympathy, and she told me that in her heart, she knew he was the right one for me. And she promised me I'd make it through this.

And two glasses of sweet tea and a decent portion of a chicken quesadilla later, I believed her.

Lynnette took such loving care of me that weekend. She made sure we had places to go and sights to see...and when my heart became overwhelmed, she let me have my moments to sit and ponder.

I didn't have a lot of time to journal while I was there, but I did sneak in some words to the Lord over the course of the weekend...

The final hours of being 31...not how I imagined them at all...alone and yet in a relationship…I want to release it. I want to be still. I want You to work. But I don’t know how to let You. Oh Father, redeem my birthday. You redeemed Valentine’s Day in a mighty way. You redeemed the 25th. Be big in my life, Lord, and redeem my birthday. I beg of You. I BEG.

(Side note...God did not "redeem the day" in the way I thought He would. In the way I longed for Him to. But He did give me a GORGEOUS day to spend at the ocean, and He gave me a best friend who made the hardest birthday the best I've ever had.)

Thirty two. Thirty-two and not the birthday I would have imagined. In so many ways…a beautiful day. Oh how I loved seeing the ocean. Loved dipping my toes in it and walking the beach and feeling the sand and savoring every second. I did not take it for granted. Not a moment.

My heart is starting to feel defiant. Everything reminds me of him. Everything. Mark and Lynnette call each other Babe and I can hear his voice saying it to me. Everywhere we went tonight, we saw people holding hands and I can feel him reaching for mine. Everything, God.
And even while my heart breaks at the silence, I still feel You pressing me to step back and let You work in him.

Streams says, “Remember, clouds are always ahead of God’s cleansing wind.” God, I DO NOT understand what You are doing.

I read this the other day – Ezekiel 22:13: “Will your courage endure or your hands be strong in the day I deal with you? I, the Lord, have spoken and I will do it.”
(Side note: This verse was a direct warning from God, and I knew it. Through these words, He was asking me to wait even when it seemed impossible, and to be QUIET and let Him accomplish what He'd spoken to my heart. You'll soon see I struggled significantly with that part of the order.)

Jesus, help me. Am I too messed up? Do You have the wrong girl? Am I capable of enduring this desert? I kept thinking of Luke 1:38 today – “I am the Lord’s servant. Let it be to me as You have said.”

Father God, I believe You made me for Isaac. And I believe he was made for me. I do not see how this can be mended. But be big, God. Be big in our story.

Sunday was particularly tough for me. I went to church with Mark and Lynnette and my heart stung. I sat in a church that was part of his very denomination – and missed him. I went to lunch – and missed him. We went to a state park and walked around – and I missed him. We went to Norfolk and looked around the ships – and I missed him. He loves history. He’d love that trip. We rode a ferry – without him.

That night, I wrote, Today was tough. To be in that church – and know it’s his church.To hear the song Blessed Be Your Name and know I’ve got to praise You even when it hurts.

Streams says, “Many prayers of believers are hindered by Satan. Yet you do not need to fear when your unanswered prayers are piling up for soon they will break through like a flood. When that happens, not only will your answers flow through, but they will also be accompanied by new beginnings.” Oh, Jesus, please don’t let Satan defeat us. Break through. Be big – HUGE – in our lives.
Final side note: I've posted the song Blessed Be Your Name below. Remember yesterday when I talked about flying out to Kansas for Cassie's graduation a couple of years ago? Her graduation was on the one-year anniversary of the tornado, and the church service that morning was a community service held in a huge tent in the park. I distinctly remember standing in that service, while we sang this song, and I just cried, because I knew was standing in the company of people who could sing that song in a way I could not. When we sang "Blessed be Your Name on the road marked with suffering...though there's pain in the offering...blessed be Your Name...You give and take away...my heart will choose to say...Lord, blessed be Your Name..." I knew I couldn't really say those words. I hadn't walked a road marked with suffering. Not like all those people around me who had just lost everything they owned and were starting to make a new life out of rubble. I didn't know what it meant to have what was given taken away. I'd never had to choose to say, "Lord, blessed be Your Name."
Until that Sunday. And standing in that church in Virginia Beach, with my stupid sunburned-swollen feet making cankles over my sandals, I cried again during that song because this time I knew. I knew the road marked with suffering. I knew the pain in the offering. And I was choosing to say "Lord, Blessed be Your Name."

Fear of Flying

** New blog post up over on the book blog if you want to check it out!! ** (Link on left side of this blog.)

Remember that list that God gave me to work on in my desert? Remember what headed that list?



Fear.



And I learned, throughout the course of the desert that the only way I can face fear is to...in fact...face the fear.



I'm not even sure I can accurately explain to you my fear of flying alone. I'd never flown ever in my life until my late 20's. I think it was in the fall of 2005 that I flew for the first time. My Mom (who hates flying, by the way) and I flew to Kansas to watch my niece play in a volleyball tournament. I was sick with a cold at the time and experienced significant dizziness in takeoffs and landings, which was oh-so-fun.



The next time I flew was in May of 2007, when I made the emergency trip back to Kansas after the tornado...and that time I flew with my sister, Julie. And exactly one year later, I flew out for Cassie's high school graduation....accompanied by Julie, my Aunt B, and my brother-in-law's mom. During that trip, we had some turbulent takeoffs which again, brought about dizziness.



Unfortunately, during those trips, I never paid much attention to things like...how to find the right terminal and gate...where to pick up luggage...anything regarding overhead luggage bins...and of course, there was the ever-present issue of getting through security.



Airport security and I have never gotten along well. It started back in my college days...before terrorists attacked...when non-passengers could still go through security to see the travelers safely to the door of the plane. During one such trip to the airport, I was unable to clear the walk-through scan, so the little agent with the wand came over to scan me personally. Know what set off the scanner? MY KNEES. My non-metal-owning knees. Over and over they went off. When you don't have screws and pins in your knees and yet they set off a scanner - you're just doomed.



During the trip that Mom and I made to Kansas, my bag was searched because the scrapbook I carried with me had post hinges which in an x-ray, apparently look like weapons.



Add to these things my somehwat stupid insistance to watch movies like Flight Plan and Air Force One...and I was just a royal flying wreck.



I found that literally no one understood the paralyzing fear within me as I faced the prospect of flying alone that week. What if I couldn't find my way through the airport? What if they detained me at security for something like MY KNEES? What if I ended up at the wrong gate and missed my flight? What if we were held in bad weather and I missed my connection? I had no idea how to reschedule a flight. What if birds got in the engine? (Sully retired.) What if this time, I got motion sickness? What if my seatmate got motion sickness? What if the dizziness got really bad and I passed out? Who would find me?



You may roll your eyes, but I assure you these fears were all-consuming for me and all the lonelier because the answer everyone offered was "You'll be fine."



The night before my flight, I sank into my sister's great big king sized bed and lectured myself that there was no backing out. I'd paid the money and refused to face the scoffs of others if I did back out. I was going. I'd take just one step at a time until I had my toes in the ocean.



I nearly threw up when my sister drove away from the curb into absolute darkness at 5:15 in the morning, leaving me in front of the Delta kiosk




But let me tell you the things God did that day in Bekah's Fear Boot Camp:
* I did get lost in the airport shortly after this picture. (The Indianapolis airport had opened a new building since the last time I flew, so even though I'd flown out of this city before, this particular building was brand new to me.) But God gave me a calm...and I found my way toward security.
* It may seem dumb, but when I got in the (ridiculously long) security line, I was directly behind a guy that could have been the twin of a good friend of mine. Even though I didn't know this man, there was something lovely about feeling like I stood behind a friend.
* I made it through security despite forgetting to remove my baggie of liquid items from my carry-on.
* My first flight had a deaf family on it, so for the 45 minutes or so that I sat at the gate, waiting to board, I at least had something to watch to keep my mind off the storm outside.
* No seatmate on either flight I took that day. I was able to fully relax without fear of being in someone's personal space - or fear of them throwing up.
* Despite HORRIBLE weather the entire day, the flights were smooth and on time.
* The Detroit airport, where I had a layover, was much larger than I anticipated, but my two hour layover gave me plenty of time to find my gate, buy a chai, and read some Beth Moore.
* During my layover, an uber-friendly man in a seat nearby took it upon himself to tell me how his previous flight had been rerouted due to a medical emergency. Really? Do I have to hear this? When I boarded plane #2 with him, I had a near-panic attack wondering if I would be the next medical emergency in his path. But God was good to reach out to me when I cried out to Him from my seat.
* Learned upon landing that there's an actual method to finding your luggage on the little carousel thingies. So glad Lynnette was there at the airport with me to teach me that. I would have been a complete luggage-less mess trying to find it on my own!
That night, I wrote,
So thankful for Your grace and strength that got me through today’s travels. I was so scared in security…in the airports…on the flights…I cried out to You over and over. And You were there to meet me. And I praise You.

Streams says: “The way to peace and victory is to accept every circumstance and every trial as being straight from the hand of our loving Father…lovingly and divinely appointed.”
And that is how God got me (and my desert) to Virginia Beach. And I'm happy to report that by the time I had to do it all in reverse a few days later, I felt much stronger. (I was still nauseated by the thought of security, but definitely not the same girl who flew out.) That's the work of a stubbornly loving God!

Bridge

I wanted to offer this post as a bridge between the scary post of yesterday (which I'm still terrified that I posted) and the important-lesson post coming up. I want to begin by responding to the great point Tsofah left yesterday in my comments. It is true that as you've read over the recent desert posts, you've seen a very broken Bekah who was desperate to have her life as she knew it restored.

Remember that the time you're reading about was back in May. I've done a lot of growing and changing since May. I don't want to misrepresent myself. There are days still...now...when I struggle with anger and disappointment and that crushed feeling inside. I say that because I don't want you to think I'm perfect or some super-saint who figured it all out on cue and without any snags.

Quite the opposite.

I'm pretty sure that throughout the course of this journey, I hit the highest high I've ever known and I sank into the deepest low I've ever known, too. I dealt with the physical, the spiritual, and the emotional effects of my circumstances...

...and it was all necessary. I don't entirely know why it was all necessary. Not yet. But I know that each lesson and...well, really each moment led to something that I'll use along the way in the life God has written for me. There were moments that I didn't handle well. You've already seen some of them. There were moments when I failed significantly. There were also moments when I succeeded wildly in ways I couldn't even see until someone pointed them out.

My friend Marie used to tell me that when God desires to accomplish something in your life, He'll accomplish it. You can let Him do so by submitting to His way, or you can fight Him and run the risk of learning the hard way. (Think of Saul's blinding conversion!) Either way, you'll learn. And unfortunately, because I'm stubborn, I had to learn the hard way. A few days ago I posted a link to Selah's song Draw Me, Lord. That's the part you're reading right now. How He allowed me to find such deep brokenness that I deeply desired to draw near to Him in a way I'd never done before.

Right after Mother's Day, I prepared to leave for my birthday vacation to Virginia Beach. I'd waited 32 years to see the ocean and yet that week, even the ocean held no appeal for me. But the ticket was purchased and my best friend was expecting me. So I determined I would go, desire or no desire.

That week, I also began to struggle with real anger for the first time since the wilderness/desert began. It was hard to read his online updates and see that he seemed to be doing just fine (key word, I think, was seemed) and I was visibly weighed down with such brokenness. I didn't want to live in anger, so I tried to curb it, but at the same time, I understood that working through the anger was part of the process, so I tried to give myself permission to feel it, process it, and move on from it.

One night, I wrote: How You spoke to my heart today…about seeking You first. Jesus, I do want to. I want to follow hard after You and watch You be big in my life – in my life with Isaac. In Isaac's life.

Jesus, I really am starting to get excited about my trip. The suitcase is packed. My bed is strewn with the guts of the carry-on...

...And, precious Jesus, help me be faithful to him. Help me to encourage him. Help him to accept it and be soothed by it. Hold me up in Your love, Holy Father.

He is my blessing from You. My good and perfect gift. My treasure. Protect us, Jesus.

Cheeseburger Soup

Going through a desert can make you hungry. Well. It didn't make me very hungry at the time, but I can imagine you all are working up an appetite reading about it. So I thought I'd throw in a recipe just for kicks.

This is cheeseburger soup. Don't wrinkle up your nose just yet. It may sound strange, but I assure you it is fab-u-lous.

The church I used to attend spent a winter doing fellowship nights that began with carry-in dinners. One night was a soup night. I went to it, but I was feeling very sick that night, so I didn't eat anything. Someone later told me this soup was their favorite of that whole night, and they gave me the recipe. One evening, when I planned for company, I made this - and it became an instant favorite. Plus, it makes a pretty decent amount, so it's a good dish for company.

With fall just days away, it seemed a fitting recipe to share!!

The Recipe

1 pound ground beef, browned and drained
3/4 cup chopped onion
3/4 cup shredded carrots
3/4 cup diced celery
1 teaspoon dried basil
1 teaspoon dried parsley flakes
4 Tablespoons butter, divided
3 cups chicken broth
4 cups shredded hash brown potatoes
1/4 cup Velveeta, cubed
1/4 cup flour
1 1/2 cup milk
3/4 teaspoon salt
pepper to taste
1/4 cup sour cream.

Brown and drain the beef and set it aside. In large saucepan, saute onion, carrots, celery, basil, and parsley in 1 Tablespoon of butter until vegetables are tender - about ten minutes. Add broth, potatoes and beef; bring to a boil. Reduce heat, cover, and simmer for 10-12 minutes or until potatoes are tender. Meanwhile, in a small skillet, melt remaining butter. Add flour; cook and stir for 3-5 minutes, or until bubbly. Add to soup; bring to a boil. Cook and stir for 2 minutes. Reduce heat to low. Add cheese, milk, salt, and pepper; cook and stir until cheese melts. Remove from the heat. Blend in sour cream.


I almost couldn't get all the ingredients in the picture! As usual, I substitute onion flakes for real onion so I don't have to chop it. I do use 1% milk and it works out just fine. I do NOT buy generic Velveeta. It's one of the few things that I've noticed doesn't work as well as name brand.

Start out by browning and draining the beef...

While that cooks, I start grating the carrots. I just buy the baby carrots so I can eat the leftover ones later!

Dicing the celery is another good chore to do while the hamburger browns....

I admit I'm terrible at reading recipe directions accurately. I put in ALL the butter at the beginning every blessed time. But I honestly think it helps the saute go faster. I do use the same saucepan I'm going to use for the soup itself as I do for this step. Saves washing a dish!

This is what it looks like after it cooks for a while...

Add the broth...the burger...and the potatoes...

Looks like some butter doesn't it? Cubed Velveeta....

Because I use up all the butter too early, I have to end up throwing the flour in by itself -but it really does work out fine. I promise!

Add the Velveeta...and at that point, it just becomes a game of waiting for it to melt.

Add the sour cream and stir it up well!

Isn't it so pretty? Tastes every bit as good as it looks!

Best of all - it reheats well, so you can eat it for days!

Writing Nate

This is an awkward post, to say the least, mostly because I have no idea if Isaac even knew this happened. Guess he'll know now, huh?

Keep in mind that at this point in the journey, I was still riddled with that fear God wanted me to work on. And one of the ways it manifested itself on Mother's Day was this nagging worry that Isaac would interpret my silence as disinterest in him. I had no idea what to do, so I took a risk and sent an email to his brother. I'm not going to share the whole email with you, partly because I just don't want to, and partly because you don't have that kind of time to read. (Neither did Nate, I'm sure. God love him.)

Meeting your brother has been (not kidding) the biggest blessing I’ve ever had, second to having a relationship with the Lord. I know that probably sounds like some hokey line, but it’s true. He came in to my life at a time when things were going very well for me, and he brought significant blessing and joy to me. To have someone pursue me and not only see my heart for what it is, but choose to appreciate and love my heart for what it is…is something that had NEVER happened to me before.

You asked me that night when I came to meet you, what my intentions were with your brother, and I just turned red and avoided the question. Truth was, I already knew my intentions. I already knew God had put a love for him in my heart, but I hadn’t even told him that yet, so I sure wasn’t going to tell you first!

I have prayed for hours – the equivalent of literal days – and feel certain in my heart that God has ordained this relationship and has asked me to wait for Him to work in Isaac's heart…to heal and restore him. Trust is difficult for me. It’s hard to trust God to do a work I can’t see. It’s also hard for me to trust that Isaac will hear the same thing and follow it. But if this is what God is asking of me (of us) right now, I do want to be faithful to do it.

I tell God often that He picked the wrong girl. That I am not strong enough. And yet I know He doesn’t ask me to do anything He won’t give me the grace and strength to do.

Though I am scared, I also know Isaac is worth waiting for. His heart for the Lord is unlike any heart I’ve ever known.

Because of the way things are right now, I wasn’t sure when I might see you again, and I have never really had a chance to talk to you specifically since that night I first met you guys. Because of that, I just wanted you to know the answer to that intentions question. I love your brother, and I am pouring my heart out before the Lord on a daily (sometimes hourly) basis praying for his healing and restoration, and direction for his (our) future. I believe God does have a future for us, and when it gets here, I intend to support him in any and every way possible. He knows that – I know he does. (You may thank me now for giving you the ABBREVIATED version!)

I closed my day by journaling, Thank You for getting me through today. I struggled so heavily with anger and weariness…wanting to give up. Wanting to do something easier than sitting and waiting for You to work…oh Jesus.

And yet how can I help but praise You…

Oh Jesus, work in my Isaac. Keep him safe next to Your heart. Work in him. Help him. Love him. Heal him, Father.

And in the meantime, give me purpose. Give me a reason to hope and be joyful. Help me to live abundantly.

Streams says, “In this chapter, Abraham pleaded with God for the lives of others. A friend of God’s can do exactly that. But perhaps you see Abraham’s level of friendship with God as something far beyond your own possibilities. Do not be discouraged, however, for Abraham grew in his faith, not by giant leaps but step by step. And we can do the same. The person whose faith has been severely tested, yet who has come through the battle victoriously is the person to whom even greater tests will come.”

My tests overwhelm me. What You ask of me right now seems insurmountable. Help me be faithful.

Desert Sands

The earliest days of the desert were filled with deep grief and confusion. I learned as I made my way through the desert that it always seemed to be changing. I would just grow accustomed to the way God seemed to be teaching me, and then I'd hit another phase, and I'd have to adjust to a new way of learning.

Those earliest days are hard to blog about because they are so raw and personal. I held nothing back from the Lord as I wrote to Him each night, but I am going to hold parts of it back from you because I don't want to be quite that vulnerable, and I also don't want to hurt Isaac's heart.

However, I do want to share a bit of the journal with you because I do want you to be able to see how I approached my confusion. I've had people ask me before how I pray. I pray just like I talk to anyone else. I just say what's in the deepest places of my heart. Here's an example of one of those early nights:

Jesus. Oh how I love You. You’ve gotten me another day closer to the Promised Land. Thank You for giving me the grace to work today…for giving me things to do to occupy my time after work…and for the assurance that You are at work in my Isaac's heart.

Help me to be faithful. Help me to hang in here with You. Learn Your lessons. Learn Your love.

Help me. Fear. Trust. Control. I call this to mind – and therefore I have hope. Healed and restored. Healed and restored.

Work in my Isaac. Work in his heart. Heal him. Speak to him. Love him. Open his heart to the possibility of risk. Help him to see what You’ve said to me. Oh Jesus. Be big.


That night I "happened" to open the Bible to Isaiah 35. I wasn't looking for anything in particular, but this is what I found on the page...and it was the beginning of such "happenings" in the way God spoke to me in the desert. “The desert and the parched land will be glad; the wilderness will rejoice and blossom. Like the crocus, it will burst into bloom; it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy…Strengthen the feeble hands, steady the knees that give way; Say to those with weak hearts, ‘Be strong, do not fear. Your God will come, he will come with a vengeance; with divine retribution, he will come to save you…”

Oh Jesus. DO IT!

The next night, I wrote again, and I find this part especially interesting now, given my current position in this journey.

Oh Jesus…Thank You for getting me through today. You asked a hard thing of me. Would I be willing to trust You even if Isaac called and broke up with me entirely? Wow. What a hard question! I have no choice, but I know I would be broken if he did. I know, I know. Healed and restored by the fourth of July. I know.
That day, I happened upon another verse that seemed to so perfectly fit my place in life:

Habakkuk 2:3 – “For the revelation awaits an appointed time; it speaks of the end and will not prove false. Though it linger, wait for it; it will certainly come and will not delay.” Oh Jesus, reveal it to him. Show him what You’ve shown me.

Thank You for giving me the peace to do something tonight. Thank You for holding me and giving me strength.

Give me grace for this night.

Another thing that began to happen in the early days...and continued to happen throughout the journey was the list of invitations. As I alluded to in the last desert post, I was barely functional at this point. I had no desire to make plans to do anything fun - or just anything at all. In fact, this girl who could never be found apart from her pretty pink day planner, closed the thing, put it in a bag, and it stayed there until the end of August! I didn't care if I had plans or not, and I certainly didn't care if I remembered to attend any plans I may have made.

But God knew that staying home alone all the time was a bad idea, so He sent person after person my way to drag me out of my house (literally at times!) and force me to participate in life.

Here's how it began:

A good friend of mine, Olivia, has a younger sister named Payge. She was going to prom, and called to ask me if I’d do her makeup. I actually laughed out loud when she asked. I’d barely WORN makeup in the last month, and she was soliciting me to beautify her for a night immortalized in pictures? She assured me that a makeup artist was exactly what she needed, so that Saturday, I packed up all my makeup and drove across town to apply eyeshadow and eyeliner. I have never before (or since) been asked to do makeup, but that day it killed an afternoon, and I was grateful.


Even as I did her makeup, I worried about how I would survive a long night at home alone. God was already ahead of me. My friend, Phats, texted to see if I wanted to go with him to the choir concert at our old high school. I had no good reason to stay home and sitting, listening to music, seemed something I might be capable of doing, so I agreed. When I got in the car with him, I told him the briefest possible version of my drama – just so he’d know, in case I burst into tears at some song. (I did not, by the way...even when the girls choir sang about wanting somebody to love. I hear ya, sisters!)

Such simple things. Little verses randomly noticed on the pages of the Bible. Friends who called out of the blue to arrange things completely out of the ordinary. These were the sandals that protected me from the hot desert sands.

Sunday Smattering

This past week has been insanely busy in Bekahland. I can think of three nights when the clock was past 2 a.m. before I went to sleep. I sure paid for that one yesterday. Slept til almost noon!

* Monday was Labor Day, and I had the opportunity to, in fact, labor. Lucky me! Because I work in an office that serves students directly, we are always open Labor Day weekend. My shift was Monday morning. As a consolation prize, I was allowed to wear an IWU T-shirt to work. That was a fun break from the normal business attire.

That evening, my friend Jonathan and I went to Ivanhoe's for ice cream. Ivanhoe's, if you're not from around here, is a local ice cream shop that has 100 shakes and 100 sundaes. Jonathan always gets a sundae and I always get a shake. (The sundaes have way too much topping for me.) This time I got a tin roof shake - it was good and definitely went a long way in drowning my sorrows!


* Tuesday I tried to get back into the swing of normalcy by celebrating the start of a new school year with a breakfast treat for the office. I made my quick cinnamon rolls and took them to work. They turned out quite yummily. (New word. Feel free to use it.)


* Wednesday evening I went over to Alexandria to the Gaither store with my friend Ronda. I love that place and don't think I'd been there since APRIL! Good grief! Anyway, we shopped and I got the new Vocal Band CD, called Greatly Blessed. Oh man, it has some great songs on it. I think my three favorites right now are You Are My All in All; Greatly Blessed, Highly Favored and I Know How to Say Thank You. OH! and Please Forgive Me. THAT song has a killer David note in it. I may or may not play that particular line over and over just to hear him hit it. L-o-v-e this album.

Ronda and I shopped long enough that we needed some sustenance, so we ate in the cafe there in the store. I always try to get something different so I can try out everything. For being such a small cafe, they have a huge menu! This time I had their Texas chili (I even ate the beans...Mom was SHOCKED when she heard that news!) and their grilled cheese with this special sauce on it; yummy! Ronda and I split a piece of chocolate cake, which of course, is merely a vehicle to eat frosting, and I had a chai too. (My appetite has returned, in case you can't tell.)

ALSO...Wednesday was my Mom's birthday. Happy birthday, Mom! I won't tell your age. Yet.

* Thursday night was the start of football season. I know, I know...WHAT!? How do I know this? It seems that many of my friends are football fans...okay, fanatics. So I'm trying to learn the fine art of appreciating the game. I ended up watching that game over at Ronda's house with her, Jonathan, and Austin. And I was a good girl and didn't ask any questions during the game. (Learned that one the hard way last year!)

* Friday was the end of the longest week IN HISTORY. I celebrated its survival by going over to my friend Faith's house to hang out in the evening. Faith was the one I went to Tennessee with in June.

Here are some pictures of that outing. Faith's kids are not exempt from the Silly Bandz craze. Kaylah came up with this on her own. She found the 0 in the numbers set and stuck it in her nose and said "I'm a bull!"

Hannah wanted to show me her ENTIRE collection. It has been noted that the yellow band down at the bottom looks like a bikini top. Faith and I rather hoped it was supposed to be a pair of sunglasses. Questionable little band, though.

This is what happens when a five year old is set loose with a camera....

*Saturday was a perfectly wonderful lazy day at home, spent mostly catching up on cleaning and organizing, neither of which have seen much activity during the desert months.

But I wanted to share a couple of OTHER exciting pieces of news from Bekahland with you!

My friend Julie (the one I went to Brown County with last fall) called me up a couple of weeks ago and said her church's Ladies Bible Study was interested in doing a study I wrote a couple of years ago. Julie had done the study as part of a trial group last year, and she must have liked it enough to remember it and suggest it to her group. I was so excited to hear that! So for the last week, I've been busy tweaking the study and formatting it for a quick print job. I picked up the finished product yesterday!

Julie is going to be leading the group, and I know she'll do a great job...and I can't wait to hear the feedback from the group. In fact, I hope to crash one week of their study to meet the ladies.

I've also wanted to tell you about this for a while, but I didn't have pictures. A few years back (six or seven, maybe) I got my nails done every two weeks. It was a fun treat I lavished upon myself just because I could. When my roommate moved out, I had to give up manicures to redirect the funds to regular bills.

I know it's probably fifty kinds of vain, but I have to tell you I miss my fake nails. I have freakishly small nails. The only tiny thing on my whole self would have to be my nail bed. (Just to explain to you HOW tiny they are...I had to have my acrylic nails sculpted onto my own nails because the pre-made ones are too big.) Well, as my desert came to an end, I decided to bring back the manicures as a treat for myself.

The lady I wanted to do my nails (I'm picky about where I go...don't want icky infections!) doesn't sculpt acrylics, so she started doing this new nail system on me. It's called Shellac, and I am SUCH A FAN!!!!!!

It's basically this extra festive polish that makes my nails just as strong as the acrylics, but there's no acrylic involved. These are my own nails with the polish that doesn't quit. The true test was last week (and I forgot to take a picture!) when I had red polish on for 2 1/2 weeks. In that time frame, it didn't fade off the tips, it didn't chip, I did not have any broken nails, and best of all, it didn't leave red streaks when I dragged it across paper! I declared that if the red held up that well for that long, this thing is amazing.

This is this week's color. It's not black. It's Fedora. (AKA chocolate brown.) I love it. LOVE it. Also love that because this polish is cured under a light immediately after application, I don't have to worry about smudging. It's perfectly dry the minute I walk out of the salon. AND it's cheaper than acrylics!

BRING IT ON!!!!

A Bit of a Heart Tornado

I know some of you who read my blog are new(ish) to my world, so for this post, I need to give you some background.

On May 4th, 2007, my sister and her family lost their home, church, and town in the F5 tornado that hit Greensburg, Kansas. I stole this picture from my brother-in-law's Facebook page. This was all that remained of their home. If you want to see more of my take on the tornado, just peruse back through my archives in May 2007.



I mention this simply because Tuesday, May 4th, was the three year mark since the tornado that destroyed the buildings of Greensburg. And I say this with much respect for the people who endured what you see pictured above...my heart felt a bit like that house.
May 4th was also Braeya's 4th birthday. (She's one of my two cats if you are new to reading and haven't met them yet.)
I didn’t really have the energy for either observance, but both weighed heavily on my mind.

That night, I wrote, I mowed the yard tonight and it took me back to three years ago when I mowed the day after the tornado. I remember feeling so guilty for making my yard look nice when they had nothing. It was hard to mow tonight too – but because my heart was breaking. Oh how I miss him. Oh how I long for his healing and restoration. And while I know it’s okay for me to hurt and such, I do long to show him that I am okay. I am still happy. I can bring him joy.


Oh God, please free me. Please allow me to have joy in my heart – first and foremost for my own well being but also for him. God, please be at work.
I distinctly remember this next part. As I willed myself to move up and down the yard until it was completely mowed, I remembered a piece of the familiar verse in Lamentations...the one about God's great faithfulness. When I came inside the house, I practically tore apart my new Bible getting into Lamentations to find these verses:

Lamentations 3:21-24. “Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord’s great love, we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, ‘The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.’”


I cling to it. I call it to mind that You have spoken. I will choose to live in hope rather than despair. You can be trusted. I will wait for You to work.

I remember reading these verses. I was looking for the part where it said God’s compassions never fail, when I noticed the first part – about calling it to mind. I set my jaw in great determination and through gritted teeth, I declared that I would call this to mind. I would be purposeful about it. I would. If it killed me.
Literally for the rest of the night (Braeya's pathetic birthday party excluded), I paced around the house, repeating those verses over and over. Sometimes I said them calmly, and sometimes through bitter tears, but always with great determination to see this thing through to the end.

One of the biggest blessings of the journey was the way a particular and unsolicited group of friends began to rally around me. One such friend was Kari. I met Kari through her mom, who is a co-worker of mine, and for the last several years, she and I have gotten in the habit of emailing back and forth every day. She had been eager to hear the stories of Isaac along the path of the early, gushy-love days. But, being far from a fair-weather friend, she was also willing to stay an active participant in the painful days as well. And on May 5th, she emailed me this, which was a point I'd never considered:

You can only love Isaac as much as you love yourself. Are you loving yourself? The Bible says to love your neighbor AS YOURSELF. We should love God first, ourselves second, and others third because we can’t love others unless we are loving ourselves. So love yourself...love yourself a whole lot right now and when the time comes, you will be ready to love Isaac the way you are supposed to and the way he needs you to.


Funny, since you always hear that others are supposed to be second and you are last in line. But I thought she had a great point. I wasn’t eating or sleeping. I was barely showering. There was no way I could love others because I didn’t have any love for myself at all.

That night I wrote, Lord, I know You’ve started a healing work in me. I can feel Your calming presence. I can feel desire again. Desire to live and laugh. Jesus, please don’t let it be too late for me to show this to Isaac. Please let him want to see the joyful Bekah again. Allow me the opportunity to let him see my joy and peace. Anything other than heaviness and tears.

Tearful Goodbyes and the Beginning of Boot Camp

This particular weekend in which God called me into a desert was also the weekend Isaac came to visit for the date we'd scheduled prior to all these events...the date I begged him to keep even though he thought (probably wisely) that it was not a good idea. So on Monday, the day I'd taken off work, I drove to Nate's to spend the day with Isaac.

It was a beautiful day. Just a tiny bit chilly, but a beautiful day. We had a late breakfast out together, and I loved sitting across the booth from him, watching him steal bites of my food (since I wasn't really interested in eating...still...) off my plate. This may seem a silly thing to say - but it's true. I love being out with the one I love. I randomly stole glances around the restaurant (mostly filled with retirees) and wondered if any of them really saw us. Knew we were a couple. And then I wondered...were we really still a couple?

Nate lives not far from a big park, so we headed there next. We found a deserted picnic shelter and sat at a table together and talked about what the wilderness meant. There were tears...there was confusion...but it was one of those beautiful talks I'll always remember and certainly always cherish.

It became a little chilly under the shade of the shelter, so we went for a walk through the park. I loved walking hand in hand with him...laughing together...feeling like I belonged to him even in all the uncertainty...

We stopped by McDonald's for a frappe and I knew our time together was coming to an end. The knot in my stomach completely took over...and I couldn't even drink the frappe. We went to another little park right by Nate's house and sat at another picnic table to say our goodbyes.

And there, I sobbed. I knew this was goodbye and I couldn't calm the fear. The fear I knew I was supposed to be working on. We prayed together, and before we parted ways, I confided in him that God had called me into a desert of my own. I wanted him to know I was absolutely committed to my part of this journey even if I had to do it on my own.

With that, we said goodbye, and I didn't know when I would see him again.

That drive home took hours, it seemed. When I finally arrived home, I couldn't stand the thought of being inside with walls and a ceiling bearing down on me, so I went for a walk. The sun was gorgeous and I walked for about an hour. The minute I reached my porch after the walk, the tornado sirens went off, and within 15 minutes, an enormous storm blew in.

I hate storms. H-A-T-E storms. But I did not miss the point God wasted no time in making. One doesn't ease into a desert. Boot camp begins. Fear was on the list, and what better place to start than working on the fear of storms?

That night I wrote in my journal, Lord, what a hard day, and yet I must have hope. He said he loves me. He said I’m not losing him. He said he knows he’s the most loved guy on the planet. He said he wants to end up in the Promised Land with me.
And yet I know there’s a measure of doubt within him. I cannot say or do anything to assure him more than I have. I know from here, it has to come from You.

Quiet my heart, sweet Jesus. Help me to rest in the knowledge that YOU are working. Place within his heart a love for me that can only come from You. Guide him in his wilderness. Work mightily in his heart. Hold him just as he has asked You to hold me. Awaken a love for me.

These words in Streams from C.H. Spurgeon – “My situation is urgent, and I cannot see how I will ever be delivered. Yet this is not my concern, for He who made the promise will find a way to keep it. My part is simply to obey His commands, not to direct His ways. I am His servant, not His advisor. I call upon Him and He will deliver me.”

Oh how I cling to the promise that You will rescue me. You will speak to his heart. You will bring him back to me healed and restored.

Psalm 46:10 – “Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.” God, help me to be still. To relax. Let go. Trust You. You are God. Be exalted in our love story. Be glorified. Be huge.

Desert

I've gone back and forth about how to share with you the few days that followed the wrestling, and in the end I've decided simply not to share them. I'm skipping ahead. You won't miss any details you need, and I think it's just better this way.

That Sunday after the wrestling, God met me with some very unexpected news. Isaac wasn't the only one who got to do time in the wilderness. I had to go, too. Not where he was, obviously, since God had called him to go there alone. But God had plans for me to go into a wilderness as well. (In time, I came to call my journey a desert...just because it was a different journey than the one Isaac took. So after this post, if you see wilderness, you'll know it's Isaac. If you see desert, you can know it's me. But in the journal entry below, I still called it a wilderness.)

God was very specific with me about the reasons I had to embark on this journey. I wrote them in my journal and want to share them with you exactly as they came to me.

This wilderness isn’t just for him. It’s not a territory I planned to enter, but I’m here nonetheless. I want to be faithful to do well in it. To learn in it. To come out a better person than I was when I went in.

1. Fear. I still am consumed by fear. I am fearful of Isaac's rejection, of losing him by choice or by death. I’m afraid of not being enough for him. I’m afraid of losing a blessing because of my own stupidity. I’m afraid of losing control – and I’m afraid of HAVING control.

2. Trust. Trusting God with my future with Isaac, my future for myself…work…writing…trusting God to work in both our hearts…trusting God to grow us in a wilderness.

3. Confidence. Continuing in my newly discovered belief that I am capable with a partnership with the Lord. Continuing to understand worth and beauty in Him.

4. Hope. Not living in pessimism, but living in the hope of a Promised Land!

I want to further explain a few things to you here, because this where it really all began for me.

Fear. Remember the post in which I told you about the time when I thought Isaac died during our online chat because he quit talking? That was not (by a long shot) the only time in these couple of months that I'd been overtaken by crippling fear that he'd died. I didn't tell you about the others because I didn't want you to judge me. (Or turn my name in to your therapist.) I knew that if I didn't get a handle on my fear in general, it was going to paralyze our relationship. It had already paralyzed my life. And like I said in the journal, I wasn't just worried that he'd die and leave me alone. I was consumed by the fear that he would choose to leave me. I had no idea what I would do if that happened. I'd already lost one relationship in my life. I couldn't bear the thought of failing a second time.

Trust. It's the curse of being on your own for so long, I think. You learn to rely on yourself for everything, because if you don't do it, it just doesn't get done! And as a result, I'd grown far too reliant on my own sense of leading and not nearly reliant enough on the Lord. I couldn't quite feel a sense of comfort or peace in placing my Isaac in the hands of my unseen God and believing that God would take good enough care of him. I believed I could take the best care of him, and I definitely couldn't do that if he was off in a wilderness and I was stuck here. And furthermore, because we'd already talked of getting married, I had no idea what to think about my own future in the lands of work and writing and ministry, because I had no idea where I'd be or how long I'd be there.

Confidence. It's never been my forte. I grew up struggling heavily with self-esteem and while my last decade certainly saw significant growth in that area, I still have a hard time with it. The loss of Isaac to a wilderness shattered my confidence. Though he stressed to me this was NOT the case, I still wondered if it was my fault he had to go there. If it was something I did...or worse..did not do. I still missed his texts and calls of affirmation to the point that I believed the absence of the compliments meant they had ceased to be true about me.

Hope. Ask anyone who knows me well. I can be a pessimist! (Sometimes I like to call it being a realist, but it's really pessimism.) I stood in my living room that Sunday and tried to imagine looking out over my future and could not fathom that it would go well. I just knew that waving goodbye to Isaac as he went into the wilderness would be a permanent goodbye. I had this horrible gut feeling he wouldn't come back. How could I find the Promised Land on the other side of the wilderness? (One of the things he specifically said to me in our talk that night when he told me about the wilderness was that I needed to remember that on the other side of the wilderness was the Promised Land. I told him we better not take 40 years to get there.)

So I was consumed by fear, unable to trust, shattered in confidence and sadly lacking in hope. And God knew the only way to conquer these things was to call me away...into a desert.

Wrestling

The next day was Isaac's birthday. We’d celebrated it already – on that last date we had together, but my heart broke in two that the day did not begin with a ridiculously early morning phone call from me to him…singing off key and wishing him the happiest birthday he’d ever known.

Just as I’d so hoped that driving away from his old home would be a moment of deliverance for him, I hoped this day would be the healing. It was his birthday! How could God let the first day of a new year of life pass by without offering a healing?

I remembered the account of Jacob wrestling with the Lord and that night, I determined I would wrestle. I would wrestle all night long if I needed to, but I would wrestle.

When I walked in the door after work, I did not even step out of my heels before I started pacing the floors of the living room, dining room, and kitchen in an attempt to wrestle with the Father. I cried aloud…I fell on my face on the floor – before the Throne of Heaven…I begged. I quoted Scripture. I did everything I knew to do.

I'd never wrestled before. Not in real life (certainly!) and not spiritually either. Not like that. I didn't know if there was some sort of formula or a method I should be following. (I'm pretty sure there isn't.) But my heart could not have been more sincere than it was that night. I was committed to an all-nighter if need be. I would not stop pounding on Heaven's door on behalf of Isaac. I wouldn't.

I became physically exhausted after hours of pacing, crying, praying, begging, and quoting. But even though I told God I'd keep going, He urged me to stop and rest. Reminded me that resting is sometimes as important as wrestling.

So I crawled into bed with my journal:

Today is Isaac's birthday. Even just a couple of weeks ago, I had dreams of calling him first thing to sing to him…texting back and forth throughout the day…savoring this with him even from a distance.


Clearly that did not happen. The pain and agony in my soul today was so significant that at one point, I literally thought I might have a stroke.


I came home and read the account of Jacob wrestling and then I set about wrestling on my own.


Jesus, Your peace settled over me in that way I have come to know. I claimed Your Name, Your power, your blood against the power of Satan. I claimed Your victory over my life, Isaac's life and our relationship.


Jesus, I want to be respectful of the time You need to work in his heart, but I also believe You can heal him. Please do it for me. Please touch him. Please touch me. Please don’t let Satan gain a foothold in the relationship You have ordained. Please be mighty. I praise You even now for the work You are doing.


Do your work. Be big. Be bold. Be glorious and I will shout Your Name, Lord.


Jesus, I beg for Your mercy. Have compassion on us. Do Your will. Help us to soar.


How do I let go? It’s the question I’ve been asking. Show me how to take my hands off and let You do Your work. Show me how to rest in Your care and believe – unswervingly – that You will do this for us.

I will tell you that as far as I know, nothing specific happened in Isaac's life that night. I don't know for sure...I never asked. But I do not believe anything fell from Heaven and instantly changed his heart. But of this I am sure...those hours of prayers were not wasted. They reached the Throne and somehow, in some way, benefited his life. They were not in vain. They may not have done what I wished they would have as I labored over them. But they were not in vain.

Draw Me, Lord

Writing about the desert journey is hard. I'm excited to go back and relive it from the perspective of seeing in new ways the things I learned...but I sometimes sit here and cry as I write and then re-read through the parts that brought such deep pain at the time. As far as I know, Isaac is still reading this too, and I worry that he'll be upset as he reads some of these details he may not have known. I know in all of this, he never wanted me to hurt. And I don't want to cause pain for him. But at the same time, I have to be honest about the emotions I felt, and at this point in the journey, I felt pain.

So Isaac, if you're reading, please don't be upset with yourself. And please keep reading. I want you to see what our God did.

At this point in relaying the story to the rest of you, I also need the focus to be more on the work God was doing than the love story of Isaac and Bekah.

Monday, I did, in fact, make it all the way through work, and all the way to 8 p.m. before I collapsed into a meltdown. Part of that was initiated by the news that my former roommate had just undergone surgery for a brain tumor. (She's the one I wrote about in the Sunday Splattering post.) I knew she'd been having migraines, but I had no idea she had a tumor. She had no idea either. She went to the ER with a migraine and ended up staying for brain surgery. Not quite what you expect to read on Facebook. And it, piled on top of the rest, unglued me.

That night, I wrote this in my journal. It is the first entry I have found in re-reading my journals that shows how desperately I reached out for intimacy with Jesus in the face of this hurt. Because of that, I love this post.

Fill me, Jesus. I cling to You now. I miss my Isaac terribly. Long to talk with him. Long to be comforted.

My heart is overwhelmed by a combination of grief and hope.

Thank You for getting me through today. For giving me the desire to eat a bit…to walk. To do a couple of chores.

Restore life where Satan has destroyed it. Give me joy and peace.

Work in my Isaac. Speak to his heart. Restore him to me. Blow my mind, Jesus. Be big – be huge even, in this situation. Be the Victor.

I believe. Help Thou my unbelief. Help me to have childlike faith. You will do this. You will be greater than he who seeks to destroy us. Be huge. Be the center.

How do I do this? How do I live with such an ache? How do I move past the hurt and into life again? How, my Jesus?

Certainly not sentences that would thrill the souls of my college professors. Simple, halted, abbreviated thoughts with no transition among them...and yet these are the very sorts of thoughts that I fully believe bring joy to the heart of the Father. Not joy because I was broken-hearted, but joy because I was seeking Him in my brokenness.

He wants us, you know. He wants us to draw near to Him and seek His face. I did not think of this particular song on this day, but it fits perfectly...

This is what He was beginning to do to my heart.

Feeling Punched

I'm a Freelan, through and through. We don't believe in mental health days. So although I felt like I could throw up at any moment, I was not, in fact, throwing up, so just hours after Isaac wandered into his wilderness, I wandered in the front door of my office and willed myself to make it to 5:00.

Lori and Jeff made sure I ate lunch, though I had absolutely no desire to do so. After work, Lori and Cassie took me out for my birthday, since they wouldn't be here for the actual day.

Boy that was one fun party I bet you're sorry you missed!! I loved it that they took me out, but celebration was absolutely the last thing on my mind. I tried to eat some KFC, and we went shopping for a new swimsuit for my upcoming vacation. Not much inspired me to shop – especially for a swimsuit - but I knew it would be good for me to do something nice for myself. And I did find one.

When we came back to my house, Lori gently reminded me that owning a new swimsuit for the ocean would do me no good if I did not have a plane ticket to get to the ocean. I just hadn't possessed the fortitude to book the flight. We got out my computer and looked at flights together. At last I pushed the computer into her lap and told her I just couldn't do it. She booked the flight for me.

Here we are after the booking. Me with my fake smile.



Lori went to my parents' and I went to bed, leaving Cassie, once again, to fend for herself on her fun, fun vacation at Aunt Bekah's. But before I fell asleep, I wrote, God, my heart is breaking in two. I can’t eat or sleep. I can’t even breathe. I love him so deeply and miss him so severely. I wonder over and over if he even THINKS about me. If he even remembers me.


Oh God. I can still feel his hand holding mine. I can hear his whisper and every single thing I hear and see reminds me of our dreams together.

I truly have no idea how I will ever live through this. It is killing me slowly. I have no will to do anything at all.

Why are You asking this of him? Of me? What have we done that warrants this? It feels like punishment. I know, I know, the Lord disciplines those He loves. But oh Jesus. This is the worst pain I’ve ever felt.

Streams was so perfect again today. Help me focus on how You are going to preserve and grow my life.


It is odd for me to write about this from the perspective of "this side" of the journey. Some of you might read what I just wrote and think - man, she's melodramatic. And it's true, I am. But those thoughts were straight from my gut and I still nod when I read them. It is, still to this day, the worst pain I've ever felt, and I've felt some significant anguish of other kinds throughout my life. I did think it would kill me, and that thought was not confined to the day after the exodus into the wilderness. And for those of you who are still Mama-Bear-ing your way through this, please know Isaac had NOT forgotten me. But I wondered over and over if he had.


But I need you to also know this...from the last line of that journaling. Jesus DID preserve and grow me in that time. He did.

Saturday promised to be a long day. That morning, I had to go to a birthday party for Faith’s daughter, Hannah, who was turning five. The very last thing I wanted to do was actually get ready and be social, but I had to do it. In fact, the only way I bribed myself into feeling good enough to leave the house was to cut bangs for myself before I left. I thought maybe a new look would help my heart.
It didn't.
The party was at the church I used to go to, and most of the guests were friends from that church – people I don’t often see. They all asked how I was doing, and it was literally impossible to hold back the tears. The assistant pastor, Brian, gave me a hug and I held on forever, not wanting to look him or anyone else in the face again…ever. I just wanted to stay hidden in that hug.

Here I am with Faith (mama of the birthday girl) after melting down on Pastor Brian.





After that, I had to go home and face the loneliness. Lori, Jeff, and especially Cassie, were very good to take care of me as much as they could, but the truth was, they were in the state for a wedding, so they did have to attend that. I made the best of the hours I was alone…but I was so anxious for them to come back.


That night, when it was just Cassie and me together, I made her go to Wal Mart with me. I needed to go grocery shopping but the mere thought of going into that place brought about panic I couldn’t even describe. I knew I could do it if she went with me, so my aunt-of-the-year award continued with our Wal Mart date. To make up for it, I took her to Culvers for a mixer and then we rented a movie – The Proposal – no less, and tried to have a normal sort of night.

That night I tried to write…I feel a bit better. Still heartbroken. Still scared. But, so drained that I’m able to sit back and resign this to You a bit more than I had done. I’ve been unable to function. Sick with grief. Going through the motions. Can’t think. Can’t sleep. Can’t eat. Can only cry.


I have prayed and prayed and prayed today and know I must let go. I must let God be at work.

I’m so tired tonight I’m not even sure I can write. Remembered today the verses he shared with me on our date at Nate's...from Romans 5. “Not only so, but we rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out His love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us.” Man. Think of the CHARACTER I’ll have!

Sunday morning, Cassie and I got ready and headed to church. I sat quietly in Sunday School and spent most of church biting my lip trying not to cry. Well, and praying for Isaac.
After church, we went to Mom and Dad’s for lunch. I put on my bravest face, tried to eat…


...and then said goodbye to Lori and Jeff, who had to get back on the road to Kansas.

After I left Mom and Dad's, I went to an open house for my friend Olivia and her boyfriend, Tom, who were just about to graduate from college. I hated showing up with puffy eyes, but being with others was preferable to facing my big lonely house, so I went.

Still unwilling to face home, I went to Ronda’s. She and Jonathan were watching Chad and Megan’s baby, and we all packed in the car and went to Dairy Queen for a Blizzard. Jonathan told me that the same day Isaac went into his wilderness, he received some tough news himself. Poor Ronda. She had drama on all sides. But ice cream solves everything, right? Jonathan and I did our best to drown our sorrows in it...but neither one of us successfully finished our order.

At last I had to face going home to an empty house, no matter how much it hurt. I scratched in my journal, To write my heart’s thoughts right now, Lord, even to You…is gut-wrenching. The ache and misery I feel even committing these words to paper is more than I feel I can take.

One month ago – he told me he loved me. And today – silence. Oh Jesus. Precious Jesus. Hold me now. Meet me in this pit of anguish.

Jesus, I need a miracle. I need Your touch of mercy to rain down over Isaac. HELP!!!

I had no idea how I was going to get out of bed and go to work on Monday morning. My company was gone. I’d not been alone since the wilderness began. And I knew work wouldn’t be “alone” but I just wasn’t sure I could do it.

A Sunday Splattering

Yes, I spelled that right. The last couple of weeks, I've given you a Sunday "smattering." But I have a lot to say today. So it's a splattering. :)

Last week I told you all about my trip to the Bed & Breakfast in Middlebury. So I'll pick this up where that left off...

After I left the B&B, I headed over to the flea market at Shipshewana to meet up with my friends, the Smith clan. (They're the ones of lake fame that you've read about on here before.)

At the flea market, I hung out with Jonathan (who, contrary to popular opinion, is NOT Isaac. He does know that some of you have asked if he IS Isaac, and he's at least amused by that story)....


...and Jonathan's brother-in-law, Chad. The rest of the family was there, but Jonathan and Chad said that for the span of time we were at the flea market, I needed to be "one of the guys," so they just kept me with them. They were much fun to hang out with, even if they DID pick on me relentlessly.

We got tired of walking (and they got tired of trying out all the hot pepper dip samples, which I respectfully declined) so we parked in some Adirondack chairs for sale. I like to think we helped make them look more appealing.

Later, we met up with the rest of the family at the cornhole merchandise tent. Khi (Chad's son) fully immersed himself in the art of cornhole.

We left Shipshewana to head back to the lake. The family all rode together, but Jonathan came with me to keep me company and to catch me up on life, since we'd not talked much in a couple of weeks. We encountered a pretty bad accident on the highway and had to detour. At Jonathan's suggestion, our detour took on a life of its own, and before long, we were here:

...which was not only NOT a highway...but it was A GRAVEL ROAD. I am confident the only reason this whole debacle took place was because he wanted to show off what his new phone's GPS could do. Men and their toys. Sigh.

Upon arriving at the lake, I took part in my first ever cornhole game. (As you might guess...they're Colts fans.) This is Jonathan and his brother, Austin. And the lake.

The lovely ladies of cornhole. Yours truly alongside Austin's girlfriend, Katy. I mean Precious. :)

Katy had skill. I did not.

Jonathan tried to teach Khi how to play...

Khi had other plans.

This concludes the photo-tour of that particular day.

Last Saturday, I made my way to Indianapolis to visit my friend Kristin. It was a very full day. We picked up my replacement camera (mine could not be fixed, so they replaced it at no charge - SWEET!), listened to the new Gaither Vocal Band album (which she owns and I, for reasons unknown to me, do not yet), went to SONIC!!!!!!!!!!!! and had a hair treatment party. (a.k.a. Dye the white roots.)

While at the Sonic, her car's battery gave way, and we were stuck and frustrated. A family was eating at one of the tables nearby and I was convinced they were laughing at us every time she tried to start the car, so I was a bit miffled with them. However, in the end, the man came over and offered to use the battery booster he had in his car to help us. I'd never seen such a thing before, but when the car took right off after about two seconds of use, I decided I'm a huge fan. And if the guy really WASN'T laughing at us when I thought he was, I do apologize.

Sunday, as you may or may not have seen here, was my very first book signing at my church. The whole church family was incredibly supportive and I thoroughly enjoyed the day!

This week has been extremely busy at work, as we've gotten ready to welcome students back to campus. Wednesday, however, was busy for another reason. Every year, right before the fall semester begins, we have an all-campus convocation for the employees. They talk about the highlights and accomplishments of the past year, and they hand out awards for years of service and also to reward some employees for hard work.

Guess who was up for a years-of-service award this year?

Yep. My ten years of service were about to be recognized.

Y'all..I was petrified. I've been dreading this day since last year's convocation. People actually have fallen flat on their faces before while going up to accept these awards, and I was terrified I'd be the next one people talked about for years and years.

Our president, Henry Smith, and his wife, Teresa, hand out the awards personally every year...

I was called up FOURTH of all the people (and there were probably almost 30 of us) to receive the award from President Smith. And I made it without killing/maiming myself!

Then there is the issue of how to stand gracefully and wait for all the rest....

This is Jim Lo - love hearing him speak! He presented a devotional before communion and I thought it was outstanding.

Back in the office and opening my present...a Cross pen. Pretty appropriate for a writer, huh?

Our secretary, Lynette, also received a 10-years-of-service award. We are the only two from the original Financial Aid crew still together!

Thursday and Friday, we welcomed freshmen back to campus. Loved seeing them all move in! Loved it that I wasn't one of them! (God bless adulthood. I do love it so.)

Yesterday was a beautifully lazy day at home. My friend Olivia and I are reading Beth Moore's book Believing God, and yesterday morning we spent an hour on the phone dissecting chapter two. (We no longer live in the same state, so we do our studies via phone now.) Love her insights on the book!

After we hung up, I hunkered down in the office and finished tweaking Volume One of a ladies' Bible study I wrote a couple of years ago. My friend Julie suggested it to her ladies' group as a possibility of something to study, so I had to get it ready to print. I'm so excited that this group was willing to take a chance on an unpublished study from an unknown-to-them author! I have wanted to try the study on a group, and even though Julie will be teaching it and I won't be there, I can't wait to hear their feedback!

I'm also ready to get back into writing Volume Two! I stopped writing on it a few months back when one of the chapters stumped me, but now I'm ready to try again.

And to round out the week, I had dinner with my former roommate, Angela, last night. We've lived apart for six years now, and she's currently living in Michigan while she pursues her PhD. She was diagnosed with brain cancer earlier this year and is undergoing treatment for that. I am so proud of her for her tenacity in the face of this trial. She is definitely an inspiration! It was great to catch up with her. (And as a side note, I ordered a salad, which came in a SERVING BOWL. It was bigger than a salad I would serve to an entire group of company I'd have at my house. Needless to say, most of that bad boy came home in a box.)