And.I.Worship.

Wow.

It's been while.

Three months since I last posted.

Three months of life filled with so many difficult and wonderful days.

Living.

That's what I am doing.

My one life.

My precious life.

The vantage point from which I write today:

 Reclining in a comfy chair on that screened in deck I stare out at this:

And.I.Worship.

Not the view.

Not the created things.

The Creator.

I overflow with gratitude and an awesome sense of wonder.

I spills out of me in smiles, tears....laughter.

 Sheer joy overwhelms.

A loon calls ... it echos ...

The wind stirs the branches of the cedars;

a spring breeze that reminds me: it is still only the first week in May.

The mountains in the distance are still capped with snow.

I am cozy in my fleece blanket... as I ponder:

What is man that God is mindful of him?

Who am I that He should desire to commune with me?

This beauty exists even without me being here to witness.

But here I am, Juanita Rose, and I testify, I bear witness:

For His Glory.

"For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities ~ His eternal power and divine nature ~ have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse."

~Romans 1:20~

God is magnificent.

Full of Splendor.

Wondrous.

~Evident~

He shares.

Himself.

His creation.

His beauty.

With me.

And.I.Worship.

Will you join me today?

Birth Pains

We thought we wouldn't have children. I had "complications".
They were wrong thank God!
We were so young when we got married. I was 21, the age my eldest turns today.

I lay here in my bed waiting for meds to kick in, a pinched nerve and other random issues are limiting my movement very effectively.

I remember the pain of my first labor and delivery. It is amazing how that pain was so productive; how the contractions and spasms worked to bring my beautiful son into the world.

Deep inside throughout the whole birth I KNEW there was purpose in the pain and I had peace, and joy: such joy! Life from agony. A miracle. An eternal soul.  A priceless gift. Three more followed hard on our first borns heels. We ended up having four sons in five years.
Miracles, all of them.

I bear marks on my body today, tattoos of love etched on my belly and a body softened and widened with the journey. They are reminders to me that weeping endures for the night: but Joy comes in the morning! Love bears fruit. Suffering....transforms.

I hurt today. It is a different kind of pain that seems to have no purpose. My back screams at me and I wonder if any good will come of this. There were warning signs over the last few days to be sure but there is this sort of helplessness that creeps in as the cycle spirals down again.

The questions come hard and fast. I have no answers. Limitations frustrate me. They could incapacitate as much as the pain does if I let them. But, I am discovering that this pain has the power of transformation. This pain is a birthing of sorts. It is a place unique. When giving birth, my body decided. Instincts took over and I had very little control over the events.

It is different now. I choose. I choose peace. I choose joy and thankfulness. I choose to bless and not curse. I choose trust. Something is being forged in me again. Something is being sown. I am being shaped and fashioned.  I am being remade, transformed. I know beauty will come from the ashes.

We have four birthdays to celebrate in the next 18 days. Four sons, four precious lives walking this planet: We have changed the world!

It is a new day: each moment a gift, each second a choice.
I choose joy....I choose gratitude...
 It is well with my soul.

Are you hurting today?
Is there pain in your life that seems without purpose?
Leave a comment and I will pray with you and for you....
I am sharing from the trenches today...the battle is on.

Context

What is it about dawn in the spring?
It never fails to make my heart leap. It never gets old.
The sun rises every day of the year but sunrise in the Spring-time is by far one of the most breathtaking experiences of my life...and it happens every year.
I awoke this morning and pain was the dominant ruler of my day...and then the sun came up...
Fingers of light stretching east to west...
Illuminating, caressing the landscape..nourishing...
I think it is all about context...
Like the words of the song..
"Don't it always seem to go: You don't  know know what you've got til it's gone"
Spring always follows winter.
Day always follows night.
Up comes after down...

Sleep always seems like dying to me.
Laying down my body, closing the eyes, drifting off...
Unaware...
Unconscious.
For all intents and purposes...I am not....
Then the awakening...the return...
It's a rebirth.
Today is a new day, yesterday washed away.... dead and gone...
I am like a Phoenix rising from the ashes every day with the sun..
Reborn...remade...refreshed...
Winter was long and hard....
It seems to steal from both ends...
Nipping at Autumn early and driving it out relentlessly, biting and clawing it's way forward.
It lingers and clutches at Springs coat-tails...laughing and taunting that it's not done with me yet.
But it is defeated....always.
Spring comes....ALWAYS.
Winter seems to have no purpose..but to ravage...defeat..destroy...
Don't get me wrong...snow is beautiful...and can provide hours of entertainment and fun.
There is a wonder and magic in the radiance of the white covering that shrouds a dead landscape.
It's stillness...breathlessness...is compelling.
But...Winter produces nothing living.
Nothing is alive save the living and breathing walking though it.
It's hard shell repels...rejects...forbids entry.
Storms rage....temperatures plummet...darkness rules.
It is a predator....it can kill with it's savage beauty.
It is a crucible. A furnace. An altar. A cross. A grave.
Spring....it is a womb..alive...pregnant with purpose...swelling with potential.
Spring pulses. It has a heart beat.

In this northern hemisphere, Spring is all the more magical and captivating in context...
It's battle with the long-fingered grasp of winter makes it all the more wondrous.
I could laugh with sheer joy!
Triumphant.
This season is such a picture of overcoming.
Of life...after death.

My body woke me in agony this morning...
Pain has been the dominant feature on my landscape for a while now, causing me to gasp and drop and shuffle and twist..looking for relief....that seems the sole aim of my existence lately...Relief !

The sun rose this morning.
My heart skipped a beat.
Tears blur my vision.
There is more to my existence than being pain free.
I am more than the pain.
My mind, my thoughts, my heart and soul....they are eternal.
This landscape...this body... can be injured, broken, afflicted....it can fail..and fall.
It can die.
The words  of a hymn we used to sing whispers through my mind...

"But I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded: 

that he is able...to keep that which I've committed ..unto him, against that day. "

My son has opened the window in my living room..
I lie here on my foamy..reclining ...leaning into the pain...pressing in...
The breeze blows fresh...carrying out the stale air and bringing with it birdsong and smells of green grass...
My eyes drift closed...a smile spreads slowly across my face...
Today...set before me is Life...and death...

I choose...Life....
I choose.... no one chooses for me...
I decide...what matters...
Life.
I shout it out!
To my body.
It doesn't matter.
Limits. Restrictions. Pain.
My thoughts. My mind. My attention. My being. My worship.
Directed.
Offered.
Live to die...Die to Live....
It's all about context....
Life wins every time!

In Everything....

I sat on the couch yesterday morning, half reclining with an ice pack on my shoulder and a hot coffee in hand...watching the snow swirl down on cold arctic air... on this, the second day of Spring. Weariness assailed me, built up from weeks of chronic pain and compounded by a sleepless night. My sons gathered round, anticipating our devotional time... I stare into their faces, memorizing, appreciating...thankful.
I lay aside our regular devotions and pick up 1000 Gifts by Ann Voskamp.
This book has become a companion these last weeks. a friend that whispers, provokes, cajoles, encourages and shatters.....
God is who he says!
I dare to read aloud to young minds, immature ...developing...my sons...
I am gripped with urgency:
In this world you will have trouble:it is everywhere..inescapable...here in front of you: in my very body: trouble with a capital T. ...
But... HE has overcome the world.
Do you wonder ..I ask..gazing deep into soul depths yet unexplored... inexperienced.... still unknown by their possessors...what is the will of God?

Can you know ???

Infants...still...embryonic faith...still linked to mother's resources....trusting her life source....tied...anchored

"In everything give thanks," ... I whisper into the day...into their fertile hearts....
" For this IS the will of God..in Christ Jesus concerning you!"....
I proclaim the last with bold assurance...and fragile body quakes...
Why? How?
They question , bewildered...... as they watch me shift in pain and wince...stretch out legs shocked by nerves uncontrolled...pale faced and shadowed eyes...fierce fire blazing hot deep within leaps outward...heart caught by truth:

It is possible.
It is necessary.
It is essential.
There is no salvation without thanks.
No true freedom...without gratitude.

"It is possible to say yes..and live no. "
(Ann Voskamp)


I have in many ways...for years.

The yes way is narrow.
It is dangerous...unsafe...uncomfortable...pain-ful
It is a place of naked wanting. ..only God.
Knowing only him.
Whom have I but you?
Joy commeth.
It is here.
It is now.

I offer my sons, the deliberately woven in the depths...intended creations of a mighty God...
Those sons....
I offer them..their maker.
All in all.
Author.
Finisher.
Knower.
Designer.
Keeper.
Redeemer.

I pray that they will hold up their "not enough" ...thank Him...and  know that He is "more than enough".

That they will live and love and follow
That they will know the will of God....and give thanks...in everything.
In.
Every.
Thing.
Thank-you Father.....

Joy Commeth

The cold hurts this morning.
I think it hurts the most in November and February.
November... because I don't want winter to get a grip so tight she won't let go...
..and February because my heart hopes every year for an early Spring.
Hope deferred makes the heart sick.
Sick.
The cold is relentless.
It pinches and leaves a mark.
The last two weeks have left me bruised all over.
The last few months..well...
I hurt.
I am weary.
The effort a typical "Canadian Winter" demands on any given day is staggering.
Have you seen the entryway to my house???
Boots, coats.mismatched mittens and one-of-gloves...scraggling scarves I should have thrown out last year...
Mess mess mess.
Dressing to brave the elements steals a chunk of time from my day that is no longer available for other things.
More important things.
The volume of clothes I put on restrict my movements.
I feel heavier.
This is NOT a good thing!
I sound like a whiner even to my own ears.
I know.
But I do have some excuse..
I have a rare condition that makes the cold even worse.... cold induced urticaria
I bet you never knew that about me.
I huddle in my house for most of the winter dressed in layers of socks and shirts, wrapped in fleece blankets and drinking pots of coffee.
The funny thing is, I can't stand a hot house. I need fresh air.
And so..from October through to May in this beautiful land of winter...this wonderful country called Canada..which I love...my body fights...the battle rages.
There are days when I teeter on the brink of being cold all day long.
I look out at the sun...
I sit in the rays that blaze through the window into my south-facing kitchen..
...and pray for Spring...dream of Summer...
And I grow..and learn and I let winter teach me her lessons.
She is my most diligent, most passionate, most thorough teacher.
She gets the job done.

There is a book I walk past many times a day.
It stands on it's edge, behind some do-dad in it's little cubbyhole on my shelf.
Every time my eyes slide by it I can hear the words inside echo in my head.
I bought my first copy of this book for my mom after my dad divorced her.
Yes. it's one of those books.
The second, I bought for myself.

The illustrations in this book are comprised of dots.
Simple dots make up every picture on every page.
The message is Bold. Captivating. Sharp like a scapel.
There are days when just the title is enough:

" The Tree That Survived The Winter "

by Mary Fahy 

I found my copy of this book at a second hand bookstore for $3.
Priceless.
I love second hand books.
I always think of the hands that held the book before mine.
The person that purchased it...that read it..or gave it away...that hoped it would help...
Are those tear stains?
That corner was folded down...and I know why...
Did they pause here and breathe deep, the sharpness of the knife going deep???
No anesthetic for voluntary surrender.
I pray for them again today..the person who gave up this treasure that sits on my shelf and instructs my soul.
I pray they survived...
...that they reached deep with their roots and high with their branches...
...that they now thrive.. in the sun...

"I survived the winter!" the tree exulted

I have so been there.

"I have survived the winter, " the tree sighed, "and I have grown."

Here too.

And I will be again.

 I have also been here...

~~ But then she stopped. 

For the memory of the hard winter sent through her a stab of anger and pain 

that she thought spring had healed. 

'Where were you when I needed you,' she cried to the sun...didn't you see me shivering?

I became so brittle..my roots became paralyzed..my bark cracked... 

...and I missed you.~~

I am cold again today.

So cold.

And tired.

The fight leaves it's mark on my body and my mind.

I woke with tears threatening...for no apparent reason.

Weeping endures for the night they say..

...well some times I get my days and nights switched around.

But I know....deep in my deepest...deep in that place...

I know ...

~~Joy Commeth~~
~~Joy Commeth~~
~~Joy Commeth~~
~~Joy Commeth~~
~~Joy Commeth~~

Like the morning.

Like the sun.

Like Spring.

And I am warmed.

Bigger on the Inside

Up at 6:30 am this morning.
Taking back my mornings means I take back my day.
I was talking to a friend yesterday about how seeing the dawn really impacts the rest of my day.
Watching the light approach and push back the darkness has always struck me as miraculous.


I know it is just the rotation of the earth on it's axis...
the same way the seasons change with the tilt of the earth  and it's position relative to the sun...
But..oh the magic..
the wonder..
when it happens...
the science fails..it falls to the ground and the stunning magnificence of CREATION reigns supreme.
The shout: "Let there BE" echoes through my soul!
The whisper: " Let there be" dances across my consciousness.....
Was it a shout?
A whisper?
It was power.
It was presence.
HE was.

This morning I was struck anew as I read the first chapter of James out loud in my living room.
I was captivated as I read Extreme Devotion with my sons.
I marveled as I held my steaming coffee on the cusp of a new day...

This life is bigger on the inside.
I grow to fit.
How is it that I can feel my heart expanding...when it is just flesh, blood, muscle...temporary ?
How can I KNOW my consciousness is expanding to fit eternal perspectives ?
How can I see with my eyes closed?
I am MORE... than I was yesterday... but have been fully known from before the foundations of the world.

Oh the magic.
Oh the wonder.
Oh the joy.

Today..I am going to live...
Inside out....

The view is breathtaking!