“The fishermen know that the sea is dangerous and the storm terrible, but they have never found these dangers sufficient reason for remaining ashore.”

–Vincent van Gogh

I Heard The Bells on Christmas Day

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old familiar carols play.
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of Peace on earth, good will to men.

I thought how as the day had come
The belfries of all Christendom
Had roll’d along th’ unbroken song
Of Peace on earth, good will to men.

And in despair, I bow’d my head:
“There is no peace on earth,” I said,
“For hate is strong and mocks the song,
Of Peace on earth, good will to men.”

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep;
“God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,
With Peace on earth, good will to men.”

We began our trek back home tomorrow.  Say a prayer for traveling mercies.  Thanks.

My deepest thanks to all of you who left your love and support here and by email.

We are in Utah. Today is Micaela’s remembrance and Wednesday is Dian’s. As we were driving in, the closer we got, the more my thoughts turned to Micaela and Dian. Their sudden deaths make no sense to me. My heart twists.

More from me later when I have more time to sit, be with my thoughts and emotions, and write.

Thank you again for your love, prayers and support. They do carry Paul & me.

Beginning Sunday morning, our family was thrown into a shocked, surreal and devastating existence. My sister-in-law, Dian, (Paul’s younger brother Matt’s wife) had a massive heart attack and collapsed in their kitchen. Her heart stopped beating for a terribly long time before her heart started again. Doctors determined, after surgery, that her heart was functioning at only 10% after the heart attack. She’s in ICU and in a coma. Today, they did neurological tests and the damage to her brain was too extensive. She was taken off of life support at 11:30am and she died at noon.

Sunday afternoon, Paul’s older brother Stephen went up to be with Matt. He spent the night with Matt and then they drove back to Stephen’s home to drop off his wife’s car that he had borrowed. When he got home, he found his wife, Micaela, dead in her bed. We don’t know much right now.

Please pray for Paul’s brothers Matt and Stephen. Please pray for our entire family.

A couple of days ago, I was going through boxes that have been in storage since we moved back to Seattle (4 1/2 years ago now). I found a box with those things that you keep because either you feel you should, can’t quite give up, or somehow feel you’ll want it in the future. In that box, I found old ribbons from when I was in swim team when I was a young girl, my varsity letter from high school swim team (which I never bought a jacket for), extra swim team pictures and other various swim team awards. I looked at the pictures of that 16 year old girl sitting on a rock in front of San Diego Bay. I remember taking those pictures vividly. Looking at me then, I wonder now how I could have been self-conscious about my figure. More than my figure though, I remember and can still feel my fear. I lived in fear nearly always. I feared not being good enough. I feared other people and what they thought of me. I’m proud of how much I’ve grown in the almost 20 years (gulp!) since those days. I am more comfortable in my skin. Yet, in remembering, I’m clear how much I still fear and how that fear keeps me from being free.

The next day, I read a blog post by Andrea of Superhero Journal. She’s expected her first baby, a son, any day now. She has written about her fears of labor and childbirth in the past. But this day, she shared where her journey had led her:

“When I think about it now, fear creates a desire to control. As I became more and more afraid, the more I wanted to control my experience.

I feel good about where I’ve found myself. Open, curious, no big agenda. This is not an act of heroism for me. This is not where I pound my chest and show how powerful I am for doing it without meds. I’m really only attached to both of us being healthy. All the rest is a grand adventure.”

Later that day, I read this in Life, Paint and Passion, a book on painting and spontaneous self-expression that I’m reading:

“I had never been encouraged to respond to the magic of freedom, to dive in and really explore. Buried in fear, I had been holding tight to security, tradition, comfort, dreading the dizziness of creation…”

– Michele Cassou, Life, Paint and Passion

That evening, I started reading Beginning to Pray by Anthony Bloom (thank for the recommendation, Sky!):

“The basic thing is that I never ask myself what the result of any action will be — that is God’s concern. The only question I keep asking myself in life is: what should I do at this particular moment? What should I say? All you can do is be at every single moment as true as you can with all the power in your being — and then leave it to God to use you, even despite yourself.”

–Anthony Bloom, interviewed by Timothy Wilson in Beginning to Pray

It was a one-two punch and then the knockout. That fear I was telling you about - that fear that has been with me since 8th grade (I do remember and know when it began)… it has always had power over me because my mind was trapped in the fear of imagined results.

I had made up that I was controlling my fear, my personal risk and potential bad results. Instead, I’ve been in slavery to it. There has been no freedom. The big revelation wasn’t just my fear of imagined results. I’ve known that. No, beyond that, it was giving up the results all together - good, bad or indifferent. My revelation is about being transformed by living my life in faith.

If you are a Christian, or have them in your family - you probably get those forwarded emails. I won’t go into them because, if you get them, you know what I mean. If you don’t… there’s no need to explain them. The intentions are almost always well-meaning, but either the message doesn’t always land. (…at least from my perspective/world view) or I disagree with what they are proposing.

Paul received this email from a family member today. It was encouraging to see an email like this one being forwarded around. While, not perfect (and I have to keep acknowledging nothing is…) and I think the tone is just a bit off, it’s nice to see. It reminds me of a type of tough love of sorts. A loving and wise… “Get a Grip!”

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