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November 8, 2013 by Karin Leave a Comment

You Just Never Know…

31 days of Good Deeds 31 Days of Good Deeds

(click here for the series)

~ Day 27 ~

It looks like summertime.  You’d never know it is fall in the middle of the sunny desert.

My eyes scan the horizon for any glimpse of fall leaves in this sandy town.  Nothing.  This place of perpetual summer leaves and green cacti.

I’m left to close my eyes.  Behind the lids I see the glorious gold.  The rusty orange, raging red, and luminous yellow blaze in my mind’s eye.

The leaves will fall and again I’ll close my eyes to see the thick pillow of snow cascade across the landscape.  This, I think, we might miss the most.  The winter snow.  There is just something about snow that makes everyone feel more like a brother, or a sister.  Like we are trapped in a down comforter together.  The snow feathers all around while we gaze in amazement and offer hands of help.  There is something about the snow that quiets the earth and fills in the lines of division with white goodness.

We can look into the distance here and see the white caps of jagged mountains.  These hills that surround us now will soon be covered in a white blanket.  Almost close enough to reach, but not near enough to our front door step.

I remember the scene.  My front door step just three years ago.  I didn’t glimpse the stone of those steps for months.  Two blizzards raged outside, back to back… just after he left.   I watched the wind whip the branches around as the ice thickened and grabbed hold of the fast falling flakes.

The mounds grew and grew.  By morning all we could see was white.  Like a ski chalet somewhere on the other side of the world.  While my warrior, green bags in tow, flew far away… somewhere to the other side of the world.  Deserts far away from the white down on our front stoop.

He loves this stuff.  I wish he could see this…

The shrieks and jubilant hollers from our, then, pack of five filled the cozy rooms.  Some of the glee came right from mama’s mouth.  There’s just something about snow.  It brings me back to childhood memories while holding me in the present moment – all at the same time.  Nothing else quite does that.

Blanket of snow

Weeks and weeks went by.  Snow does begin to wear on mama bear somewhere between the soaked suits and wet boots.  Many times I thought,

This would be so much better with two.  He would just love this.

Friends with warrior hearts and pastors with servant’s souls came day after day to make sure mama and babies had supplies and a shoveled driveway.  We just can’t make it through the cold days without our brothers and sisters.  The white goodness in the hearts of friends and neighbors quieted and warmed our souls in the middle of missing daddy.

After months of snowy ground cover, the walkways seemed to transform to a slick glistening path of reflection… and danger of broken bones.

Plowing through

I don’t remember quite what I was doing, but I know just where I was standing when I saw her carefully climb those slick steps.  My mind quickly made the judgement call,

Who on earth tries to sell stuff door-to-door in weather like this?  Just nuts…

Her hand went to the door and she knocked briefly.  She was dressed for the weather with a hat that capped what I was sure was plum craziness.

I opened the door anticipating,

No thank you, we aren’t interested.

It just goes to show you… not so fast.  Not so fast with that judgement thing.  You never know… you might just being opening the door to a gift.

She smiled at me,

Hi.  I’m your neighbor down the street.

She pointed to the house.  Oh, I knew the house.  We all knew she was a hoarder.  Not in the sense that all of us have trouble letting go, but in the true definition of hoarder.  The house seemed to slowly disappear behind overgrown shrubs; and any glimpse into the cracked garage door bore witness to years and years of newspapers… and so much more.  Stacks and stacks piled behind the darkened windows.  Occasionally we would see a car come and go.

What could bring a person to this place… hoarding?  The stories swirled of sadness… the passing of her husband was said to start it all.  But, who knows where it all really starts?

My eyes widened as a smile crept to my face,

Hi.  How are you?  I’m Karin.

She smiled, shook my hand, and went on,

I heard your husband was deployed.  I know you have a lot of kids down here and that you probably can’t get to the store.  I was at Home Depot and grabbed the last two bags of rock salt.  I want you to have them for your walkway.  It can be dangerous with all this ice and I don’t want you guys to get hurt.

Just when you think you know a story… grace comes crashing in.

She went on to tell me about her daughter and grandchildren.  She even offered to watch my children should I reach the brink of madness home alone with five of them.

We laughed and talked; and finally she went on her way down the icy path.

I watched out the window until I couldn’t see her anymore.

I felt His love and protection, and at the same time I heard Him whisper,

You just never know…

And, we don’t.

We don’t know the whole of any story.

We know pieces and parts.  We form our opinions on shards of information… on slivers of truth.  

We form our opinions on sheets of ice only to find grace and humility melting them all away.

Sometimes we don’t know the white pillows of goodness that are hidden in a heart.

The woman who hoarded things we couldn’t understand, freely gave what a stranger needed.  You just never know.

You just never know what you’ll find on your front step… if you are willing to open the door…

and your heart.

 

Revelation 3:20

Here I am!  I stand at the door and knock.  If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me. 

Karin signature

 

 

Filed Under: Brothers and Sisters, Community, Faith, Friendship, Good Deeds, Grace, Military, The Good Stuff, Together Tagged With: military, sharing burden, together, you never know

September 3, 2012 by Karin Leave a Comment

The Greatest Treasure Found…in the Packing Up of a Life

We walked into the room.  My friend and I.

A lifetime of stuff piled in front of our eyes.

We were here as an offering…

His hands… His feet

A timid offering in the very middle of this field of grief.

We came in service…

to honor a woman I had never known

to help a man… a friend to my warrior… a man I had just met

to serve a God my eyes have never seen

My friend and I, we stopped… breath gripped in our throats, hearts heavy… we prayed.

Help us to be like You

We looked at each other, having just wrapped arms around little ones… little ones who face this earth with a brave daddy… while a mama prepares a home in heaven.

this is hard

please guard our hearts… keep us focused… pour Your water through us

We went to task.  A mama’s work.  Sorting, cleaning, organizing, boxing, moving, trashing, saving…

The saving

She, a mama like us, saving her treasures.  Baby blankets, toddler shoes, tooth fairy secrets, photos, cards… the treasures we mamas save… the things we can’t bear to part with… fearing that parting with the things means parting with time.  This time… now.  Parting with the time of our little ones’ youth… the precious baby years… the years that our young ones run, love uninhibited, arms wide-open… to mama.

He guarded our hearts for a time.  Through hours, He pointed us to our work.

Then a memento… a smiling photograph… a joy-filled time… peeked through the piles.

It could be mine

The clothing, left on hangers, the gear of her warrior husband, the children’s clothes… in all imaginable sizes.  She, a warrior’s wife… a mother of six…

it could be my house

my stuff

my memories

These things we all love to save.  We packed her things… these memories we long to hold… into boxes.  The treasures left behind, we tucked away, to ease a heart-break at their mere sight.

I save all the same things.  I don’t know why really.  Perhaps a “pack rat” tendency inherited from parents who lost everything while a world was at war?  Life as a warrior’s wife requires the thinning of things… but, I save nonetheless.

I save every memory I can

in the hopes that I will somehow be able to come back

Come back to the same place in my mind… the place I am joyful, the place I love so much… this place of motherhood.

I save for my own.  The treasures I hope may trigger a childhood memory… tucked far beneath… only to be brought into the light… by one small trinket.

I sat on her floor… sifting through her prizes of motherhood.  I prayed for her children… for her husband.  I prayed that the memories never travel too far from their young minds… until they can see her loving mother eyes again.

I held her things… and felt my own mortality… I held it in my hands.

These things.  They do matter.  What I saw in this sifting and packing up a life…

The things stay here… the memories that they trigger are the treasure

The greatest treasure she left them?  The thing I have seen most of all… in their young eyes…

She taught them about Him.  She surrounded them with Him.  They know where mama is… where she waits for them… they know she waits with Him…

this is her greatest treasure

 

2 Corinthians 4:6-7

For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.  But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.

Filed Under: Faith, Friendship, Joy, Military, Motherhood Tagged With: faith, friendship, joy, military, motherhood

August 29, 2012 by Karin 2 Comments

When You Find Yourself on the Sidelines…or in the field…of Grief

Seasons of grief.

Doesn’t it seem like there are seasons in life filled with grief?  One story follows another, and we wonder…

how much more?

The grief is not always right at our doorstep…

sometimes it is only a few steps away…

sometimes we are bystanders ~ standing on the sidelines of pain

sometimes our feet cross the line… we are on the field… the sorrow is ours to share.

My season began in March.  She was one of my closest… one of a small handful… she knew the one I had been before… and the one I am now.

You know, the kind of friend who remembers who you were before you took on the titles of Mrs. and Mama.

I remember who she was then, too, before she became Mrs. and Mama.

I crossed the line onto the field of grief.  I didn’t pay much attention to the ones on the sidelines.  I knew they were there.  Praying.  My warrior, my babies, my friends…  It brought comfort.  The prayers eased the weight on this heart.

I remember the day she called me… filled with tears… fears.  They didn’t know how far the cancer had spread yet.  In hindsight, they had it all wrong anyway.  Three years she lived that life… she didn’t want to be defined by that word.

She grew in her faith.  I suppose she could have turned the other way…

I thank Him every day that she turned to Him ~ not away.

All the conversations we had once upon a time… they all turned to Him now.  By His grace ~ her faith grew… until she went home to Him in March.

Another…

A warrior friend.  We would receive words from him while he battled for life.  The amazing words from him were filled with hope, love, praises for God’s goodness.  While his body faltered… fell to the disease… his faith grew.  His spiritual strength he poured into the words he shared.  His one question… left as a reminder to us, still here…

have I served God well?

We were but spectators of family grief.  Offering what we had.  Prayer.  Presence.

Again…

A godly woman.  Wife to a God-serving, country-serving man.  Mother to a six pack of her own.  The story itself brings Job to mind.  The burdens just too much for one man to bear.  A loving wife passing into the arms of a Savior, six small children ~ a little one suffering illness herself, a loving father taking on everything he can hold… struggling to reach the top of the water… just to breathe.

The grief, the sorrow, the struggle ~ observed from the sidelines.

That’s just when it is time.  Time to step across into the grief.  That place we don’t want to be.  That season we fear.

Grief taken on… to shoulder the burden together.

If He had wanted us to be islands… He would have made us islands…

Wise words from this man, who by God’s mercy, has not crumbled under his sorrow.

I think of this season.  Puzzled by a flicker of joy.  The chance to provide help… blessed to be a blessing.

The joy perhaps a sense of His arms wrapping around?  Him using us to show His presence… His love… His yoking with us in this walk.

The thing about grief… no matter how far you find yourself from the line ~ whether caught on the field in a blur of pain, or on the sidelines, observing the swell of sorrow ~ the thing is… we are all in this.  We are not islands.

We are meant…

to be present for each other…

to provide for each other…

to pray for each other.

 

Matthew 11:28-30

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.

 

 

 

Filed Under: Friendship, Hope, Love, Military, Together Tagged With: friendship, hope, love, military, sharing burden

August 23, 2012 by Karin Leave a Comment

A Question Before Dying

We slid in quietly.  Sat in the back, my husband and I.

The somber, familiar feeling overwhelmed as we gathered to bid farewell to a friend.

A husband, a father, a son, a brother.  A friend to hundreds… thousands… as was evident in the gathering.

The ceremony a comforting ritual… heartfelt words… godly wisdom.

I couldn’t stop thinking of his family.

A beautiful wife, two sons on the edge of childhood… entering manhood, a little girl… the same age as my young daughter.

His parents, his siblings, his friends… his brothers-in-arms… a collective body ~ praying.  Prayers of thanksgiving for the man he was… thanksgiving for the servant he was… thanksgiving for the love he shared with so many.

A warrior, like my own… a fighter pilot, like my own, sharing the bond of sacrifice.

The rows of people, dark-clad, muffled tears.

Then the sobs of a child

a little girl

wanting her daddy back… here

The priest spoke of love.  He spoke of Christ’s love.  He spoke of our friend’s devotion to his Lord.

Do you know what was most on his mind before he passed into the arms of His savior?  A question.

He knew God would watch over his family, he knew they would be reunited in the paradise we await.  He knew it was all just a matter of time.

His thought ~ the question he asked the godly counselor…

Have I served God well?

It was the question he repeated in the week before his passing.

The priest spoke of Romans 6… he asked us to read it in honor of our friend.

I did.

Dead to Sin, Alive in Christ

I poured over the words… drinking them in with the hope that they would finally and completely take hold.

The life I live, I live to God

The question is one that is swelling in my mind… squeezing thoughts of self out of the way.  I want the question to take hold… I want the question to be the first question in the gift of a new morning… a new sunrise with my six pack… I want the question to be the last thought my conscious mind holds… trusting Him to take care of all of it ~ of all of us.

Have I served God well?

Am I serving God well?

Will I serve God well?

That we would all embrace this thought… do we serve God well?

Romans 6:23

For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.

 

 

Filed Under: Faith, Friendship, Love, Military Tagged With: faith, friendship, love, military

August 14, 2012 by Karin Leave a Comment

When You Want to Run

I am a military wife. We moved several times during the early years of our marriage.  Moving to a new place is usually an exciting experience.  It’s definitely an efficient way to clean your house ~ really clean your house.  When you move in the military, you are given a weight limit.  This weight limit is dependent on your rank and your next location… I mean, home.  You don’t want to waste any of this valuable “weight” moving your unnecessary items… I mean, junk.  Moving ~ the best solution to deep house cleaning.

In the past years, we have been blessed with the opportunity to stay in one location.  A blessing in many ways… moving six children would be no picnic (a trip to the grocery store requires immediate “mama down time” upon returning home).

We used to move every 2 or 3 years.  Our moving from place to place quenched my desire to run.  I knew that if I didn’t like a place, or a situation, or a person… well, I was going to leave anyway.  No need to run.  The decision was made for me.  Then, no more running…

Recently, we have been able to stay put.  The problem with this… every 2 or 3 years… we want to run.  I want to run…

So, what do you do when you want to run?  Would you join me on (in)courage today and share what you do when you want to run…

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Filed Under: Faith, Military, Patience Tagged With: faith, military, Patience

Meet Karin

Hi! My name is Karin Madden. Writer. Warrior wife. Mom of six pack. Homeschooler. German-blooded southerner. Welcome to the place where I explore what it means to grow stronger - spirit, soul, and body. I write to inspire and encourage - to remind you we are not alone. By being bold with grace and speaking truth in love, we can become who we are meant to be. I'm glad you are here.

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