Blessed are the Poor in Spirit

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Mt. 5:3


Our pastor preached on this verse today. A messege that went straight to my heart. For the first time, I see this poverty in spirit, this searching and spiritual destitution I've been suffering from in a new light. For I am, and have been for a while now, poor in spirit. Jesus said I am blessed because of that.

What does it mean to be "poor in spirit"? The word "poor" is transliterated "ptochos" from the Greek. It is used 34 times in the NT. Here is the definition from Strong's: "reduced to beggary, begging, asking alms, destitute of wealth, influence, position, honor; lowly, afflicted, destitute of the Christian virtues,; helpless, powerless to accomplish an end; poor, needy; lacking in anything; as respects their spirit; destitute of wealth of learning and intellectual culture which the schools afford."

Destitute, impoverished in our spirit, powerless to accomplish an end, lacking....how many of us desire this as the state of our hearts? Or would think it a blessing? Why, why did Jesus say "blessed", happy, fully satisfied, is the one who's spirit is impoverished? It doesn't make sense. It's upside-down of what we would think. It seems to me that the ones who are blessed are the strong in spirit, the people who have unwavering faith, who never question why God does something or if He even exists. You know the folks I'm talking about. They are the ones that everyone looks up to, that everyone wishes they could be like. But Jesus didn't say "blessed are the strong in spirit". He said "blessed are the poor in spirit".

I've been fighting this spiritual destitution. This questioning and railing at God for things I don't understand. I hate not feeling joy or peace. I hate wondering if God even cares about me. If I can trust Him. I am hanging on, or rather, He is hanging on to me, by a thread it seems sometimes. I certainly have no spiritual riches to give to anyone. I cannot even pull myself out of this spiritual hole I have fallen into. How can this be a blessing? What was Jesus thinking?

Perhaps it is a little like being physically poor. You have very little to give away, yet you share what you have with others who need it. You never take anything for granted. Every gift, every bonus, every act of kindness means the world to you. You are forced to admit that you have nothing and need everything. You must rely on the kindness of others and not only on your own strength. You are compassionate because you understand what it means to be needy. You are humble because you have nothing to brag about. You easily admit that every good and perfect gift comes from God, because there is nowhere else it could come from.

These are the same reasons why being poor in spirit is a blessing. I can freely admit that I need help in my spiritual walk. I can have compassion on others who are spiritually destitute because I know their pain. When life tells me differently, when all hell breaks loose in my heart, I throw myself on Jesus, knowing that I am powerless to save myself. My faith is not enough. My good deeds are not enough. I doubt Him, get angry at Him, wonder if He loves me, and I admit I need Him. And I need others. And they need me. Because, even when you are poor, there is always something to share. Even if it's just a sholder to cry on and a heart of compassion.

I am blessed. Though my spirit is poor, the riches of the Kingdom of heaven belong to such as I.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs in the kingdom of heaven.

In Which I Have An Epiphany

We went to a baby shower today. It was a family shower, so there were families there, moms, dads, and kids running around everywhere. In this group of new friends in our new church, we are the only homeschoolers. No one else has ever been exposed to the homeschool subculture. We are novelties to them. I don't mind. I've never felt so at home and so not judged before in my life. I like it. I love the people. They've opened up their hearts and homes to us before they even knew us and the love of Christ is so very evident in their lives.

But as I was sitting in the joyful chaos of that shower, a thought that has been bouncing around in my head for a while suddenly landed with a thud. Did you know that the only people who expect perfect behavior from small children is the ultra-conservative Christian subculture?? And did you know that the rest of the developed world doesn't expect this nor judge you as parents if your children aren't perfect little obedient angels all the time? When my kid throws a fit, no one looks down their nose at me. They just smile and nod knowingly...kids will be kids, after all.

It's so relaxing to realize. The unrealistic expectations of the culture I grew up in are just that: unrealistic.

Probably most of you are thinking, um, yeah? like this is something you've always known and Darcy must be slow. But see, I've never really shared my life intimately with anyone who has not had a similar background as me. I've always hung out with the same crowd and only now am realizing what most of the world has known and taken for granted. That the expectations and standards of the ultra-conservative crowd are unique to them and not indicative of the rest of the world.

Do you know how freeing that is for me? For the first time in my life, I feel like I can let my defenses down. I can be flawed and it's OK. My kids can act like, well, KIDS and no one thinks I'm a slacker parent. These people love me for who I am, not for what I believe or how I perform. They love my kids and accept my family without strings attached. It's amazing.

I think God has me in the place I'm in, sharing my life with these people for a reason. I think He knows I need it. My husband feel it too. It's like a breath of fresh air.

So this is what Grace looks like.

A Lot Like Me

baby I'm afraid you're a lot like me
you can't help feeling everything
I can see you trying to hold it in
I see your eyes and your trembling chin

And for you and myself I will pray
let our weakness become our strength

baby there are some holes you just can't fill
you try and try but you never will
baby I believe a God who can
he loves the boy and he'll love the man

And for you and myself I will pray
let our weakness become our strength

~A Lot Like Me, by Sara Groves

Hope

There is a flutter of something in my heart tonight. Something that scares me yet makes me feel...lighter somehow.

I think it is hope.

Like a breath of cool air on a hot summer night, it is elusive, and teasing. But perhaps that is because I am still holding it at arm's length. Still suspicious of it, afraid of it, wondering if this is too good to be true.

I've been doubting for so long. Hurting for so long. Angry at God and wondering if He even exists or cares about me. Wandering, trying to make sense of the last two years. When eveyone I trusted and loved failed me and broke my heart, it seemed like even God had forgotten about me. I know now and have known for a while that He's holding my heart, even when I'm doubting Him. This is what keeps me sane.

But as a new chapter in my life begins, a stirring deep inside is starting. Can it be that I can begin to breathe again? That I can hope for healing, joy, intimacy, and good things in life? I am afraid of hope because I hate disappointment. It has always been a struggle with me to hope for anything. I have had to purpose to hope, even if it means being disappointed because life without hope isn't life. It is death to the soul.

I so badly want to take in this elusive feeling of hope like a much-needed breath of air. I want to pray again and believe God is actually listening to me. I want to know that He loves me and has not forgotten. I want to read the Bible without feeling cynical and angry. I want to feel again, to be passionate about something instead of this dullness that has so long taken over my heart.

People around me think I'm amazing. They think my life is so perfect. That I'm so strong and spiritual. But they don't know what lurks in the dark recesses of my soul. I long to bring it to light, to be rid of it and all the pain it has caused. But it isn't my sin, my story to tell. It is the story of others who have broken promises and forced me to keep secrets too heavy to bear. I have fought for life and love for so long alone.

But now....something is different. If I can, for a moment, set aside my fear and anger, I can see light and joy. My soul feels lighter but I'm still afraid of embracing it. Afraid it'll vanish yet again and I'll be left to struggle along...again. Maybe staying dull is better than hoping and longing only to hurt again.

But no. I must acknowledge Him and His Presense in my life, even if I can't feel it. There are roots in my heart that the Enemy of my soul can't pull out; promises engraved in the pages of my life story that cannot be ignored. If He is the God of redemption, than my time is coming.

"Out of the depths I have cried to you, Oh Lord!
Lord, hear my voice!
I wait for the Lord,
My soul waits,
And in His word I do hope;
My soul waits for the Lord more than those who watch for the morning...
Oh, Israel, hope in the Lord!
For with the Lord there is mercy,
And with Him is abundant redemption."
~From Psalm 130

Endings and Beginnings

I've decided I hate endings. They're depressing. Saying goodbye, last things, I don't like any of them. Beginnings are great though. New experiences, first things, changes and new chapters in life. I wish we could have beginnings without endings.

This week, I said goodbye to my home, my family, and my many friends. It was hard. While I'm very excited about our new home and life in Montana, I hated saying goodbye to everything familiar, everything I've loved for so long. That tiny town in the mountains of Washington has been my home for 11 years now and my husband was born there. Leaving wasn't easy. Our last Sunday at our beloved church, spending the day at my parents surrounded by our siblings was emotional. I'm even a little scared to be venturing so far from famliy when I depend on them so much.

But this is where God has put us and we really do like it here. It's beautiful (see the pic at the top of my blog). I love making new friends and getting reaquainted with the families we met last summer. There's so many new things. Like having neighbors. I'm not sure I'll ever get used to that. :^)

I am glad that God has made a time and a season for everything under the sun. And that He has made it all beautiful in its time. Even endings.

Never Drive While Hormonal

Seriously. I wanted to kill someone. Or at the very least drive them off the road. I couldn't believe how ticked off every other driver on the road was making me today. Like all the idiots conspired together to be on my path all at the same time. It must be hormones.

Or maybe it was the fact that I'd just tried to go to the Goodwill with all my kids while their daddy was getting his wisdom teeth pulled. It sounded like a good idea. I am in desparate need of some clothes. I just can't ever seem to get to the thrift store, or if I do I spend the money on the kids (why can't they invent clothes that grow with the kids??). So since I had to wait around town for 2 hours I thought, hey, I'll just go see what I can find. Maybe come home with a new top or two. *insert sarcastic laughter* Right. I wasn't in there 5 minutes before all three of those little imps, I mean, children, were fussing. Including the baby who is usually more than happy to be toted around in the Baby Bjorn. But I kept on. Through all the dirty looks and sympathetic stares of the other shoppers, and the escalating noise that I pretended wasn't coming from my cart. ("Gee, whose annoying kids are screaming?? You'd think people could keep their kids under control!!" :P)I kept hanging clothes on the handle of the cart to try on since there wasn't room in the cart for them. It wasn't until I had gone through the entire women's section and stopped at the dressing rooms that I noticed that Faith had been UNhanging them and dropping them on the floor. (!!!) Looking back, I noticed the very efficient clerk picking up one of my shirts and hanging it back up. Gaaa!!! Didn't she have anything better to do than follow me around and pick up the clothes I spent precious time picking out?!?!?! Oh well...two cute tops remained on my cart. I pushed the entire cart, screaming kids and all, into the dressing room and tried them on. They didn't fit. They made me look fat. Why can't they make clothes for real people? And why can't they make 15 passenger shopping carts?

Then the phone rang: "Your husband is ready for you...would you like to come pick him up?" (I only briefly thought about saying no. Only briefly.) I drug the cart out of the dressing room, payed for a couple of dresses for the girls, and piled my crying children into the car. Upon arriving at the surgeon's, I found my very loopy husband trying to explain to me that he was fine with a mouth full of gauze. The nurse told him not to talk.

After arriving at home, everything got worse. Faith wouldn't take a nap and kept finding banana peels to put in the most inconvenient places; Kailey filled a cup full of spit and rubbed it in Baby Joel's hair (who then had to have a bath); I made her go outside where she screamed bloody murder until her grandma came running through to woods thinking one of the kids was dying; Sky just laid on the couch and couldn't even get himself a glass of water (yup, shoulda left him) and I kept cleaning only to turn around and find the girls undoing everything I just did. And I'm still ticked at all the stupid drivers.

But I suddenly remembered something. Earlier, after trying on those two shirts at the Goodwill, I put my own shirt back on. Kailey immediately stopped crying and exclaimed happily, "OOOH! Now you're Mommy again!!" :^) And Faith counted clearly to 5 on her fingers today all by herself, several times, without any prompting (a HUGE step!). So I guess my life isn't so bad after all. Crazy, yes...but at least I'm able to eat my chocolate chip cookie. Unlike my husband who almost agreed to my proposition to stick a cookie in the blender for him. Poor man.

One of these days I'm going to have to get myself some new clothes, though......

A Love Story, The Wedding

Hot summer day, ripe with anticipation. I stand there, surrounded by giggling bride's maids and sweet flower-girls. Hundreds of friends are gathered to witness our joy. Music plays "Fair are the meadows, fairer still the woodlands..." I can't believe this is finally The Day. We have waited so very long, my Love and I. We have cried, laughed, sighed, and longed. Our waiting is finially over. Our faithfulness to God and each other is about to be rewarded.

My groom is standing out there, waiting for his long-awaited bride. I can't see him, nor him me, but for each of us there is no one else present but the other. Flowers everywhere. Someone adjusts my train for the forty-seventh time.

Suddenly the music changes.

"All of my life I have dreamed that somehow love would find me;
now I can't believe you're standing here..."



One by one, the bride's maids, sisters, cousins, friends, walk down the aisle, flowers in hand. Oh, the littlest flower girl doesn't like all the attention and is carried down the aisle by the maid of honor.




"If beauty is all in the eye of the beholder then I
wish you could see the love for you that lives in me..."

Breathe, just breathe.

The moment has come and I go, walking slowly down the steps of my parent's front porch, through the arbor of flowers and lace, I turn to face my friends and family. My Beloved awaits....



"And you would know you have my heart
If you could see, what I see
That a treasure's what you are
If you could see, what I see
Created to be
the only one for me
If you could see, what I see."

I watch his face. He is smiling, tears in his eyes. I smile back as I, flowers in my hair and in my hands, dressed beautifully just for him, walk towards him. Time stands still...



It seems an eternity, but I finally reach him. Turning toward him, I relinquish my bouquet to a waiting maid and give him my hands. The ceiling of our wedding chapel is the blue, blue sky and green grass the carpet. On a mountain top, in the woods, our vows are witnessed by the sparrows. We gaze deep into each other's eyes...




"Do you, Sky, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife...to have and to hold from this day forward...til death do you part."

"I do," says my Beloved, for all the world to hear.

"Do you, Darcy, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband...to have and to hold from this day forward...til death do you part."

"I do," my strong voice carries on the wind.

The earth holds her breath, while angels watch this mystery...two hearts becoming one...two lives joined together forever...

"I now pronounce you Man and Wife!" exclaims the preacher. "Sky," he says, smiling, knowing, "you may now, finally, kiss your Bride."



In all the world, was there ever such a kiss? Our friends cheer, for they know our story. Some of them walked with us through the dark times of waiting. Joy erupts across the yard, a joy that heaven itself cannot contain. My heart is full...I think it may burst.

Grabbing hands, we run, laughing down the aisle as cheers, laughter, and music surround us. Then the party begins. Dancing, feasting, laughing with friends, hugs to grandparents, kissing while everyone watches. It is heaven on earth.




I was told later that the most amazing Northern Lights filled the skies that night. They lasted until dawn, dancing, twirling, ribbons of color in the night. I like to think that the angels were having their own celebration; that God was saying "This is how much I love you."

"Trust in the Lord, and do good; dwell in the land and feed on His faithfulness; Delight yourselves in the Lord and He shall give you the desires of your heart." Psalm 37:3,4




The End....or should I say, The Beginning.