Under Construction

Continuing The Healing Path with two of my grown daughters, at every turn of the page I run headlong into my failures. All the times I journeyed poorly. Became blind-leading-the-blind for my children.

I really tried, most of the time, when my own wounds didn’t shout louder. To give my children a “so much more” life than I grew up with.

Neglect. Betrayal. Failure to act.

It’s a punch to the solar plexus as I recognize how my weaknesses betrayed my children, my needs took precedence over theirs.

Janie 4th grade
Janie 4th grade

Clearly, I haven’t been the person I yearned to be when I was ten, writing in the margins of my little white New Testament. My life did not take the track I planned.

But that’s not all there is.

When Jesus stretched out his hands and called me across the water, he began to work in me, sometimes breaking down and building anew, at times pulling up from my past to create an unknown strength.

It’s been a long pathway, full of twists and turns. I’m a work in progress.

Winding path in Switzerland © Jack H Thompson
Winding path in Switzerland © Jack H Thompson

At times, I jump in and try to help out. That never works out well. I’m still flawed, unable to make myself who I really want to be.

More and more, I sense that am being healed. Clay being reshaped by the Master Potter. Set free to be the person I was created to be.

I am fashioned by Love, to love. Created to create.

Whether you are in the “I’ve made too many mistakes” crowd or the “wait for me to get it all together” boat, I’m stretching a hand your way, inviting you to the dance of the “make-overs”. (HGTV doesn’t even come close!)

You are welcome to join the Under Construction Crew.

Come on in. The water’s fine!

Scripture leaves no doubt about it: There’s nobody living right, not even one, nobody who knows the score, nobody alert for God. They’ve all taken the wrong turn; they’ve all wandered down blind alleys. . . .
The God-setting-things-right that we read about has become Jesus-setting-things-right for us. And not only for us, but for everyone who believes in him. A pure gift. He got us out of the mess we’re in and restored us to where he always wanted us to be. And he did it by means of Jesus Christ. . . .
This is not only clear, but it’s now—this is current history! God sets things right. . . What we’ve learned is this: God does not respond to what we do; we respond to what God does. We’ve finally figured it out. Our lives get in step with God and all others by letting him set the pace, not by proudly or anxiously trying to run the parade.

Romans 3:9,14,28 The Message (YouVersion)

Where are you in the journey?

As she lay dying

His sister called, and early the next morning my husband flew west to be at his mother’s bedside. He and his sisters kept vigil. At the hospice nurse’s urging, they spoke to her as if she could hear them, even though she didn’t respond.

old hands

Back home, I waited and prayed. For three days, I prayed that the Lord would minister to them even as they ministered to her. Prayed that whatever remained for her spirit to transact with Jesus would take place.

After hours of thunderstorms, late in the afternoon the rain stopped. I grabbed my dog’s leash and pulled on my walking shoes. Outside, leaves dripped, shinning in the soft light of twilight. The grass and trees seemed greener, more vibrant.

When I stepped out from under our oak trees onto the street, I looked up and gasped. On my right, pink and purple clouds tumbled upward from a sunset of scarlet and tangerine.

As I turned to the east, peace poured over me. Pink cotton candy clouds billowed with reflected sunset colors, and two complete rainbows, one over the other, arched across the horizon. The outer bands of color fluxed in and out of the clouds as if someone were mixing watercolors.

A holy moment. A gateway to heaven. I couldn’t move.

double rainbow for  blog

Finally, Lily tugged, anxious for her long-awaited walk. I set out, often turning to witness the rainbows. I tried to snap their exquisite beauty with my cell phone, frustrated that the purples and greens wouldn’t come through. I was too close to capture the complete arcs and hoped I could move far enough west to get them. But when I came around the circle and out from under more oak trees, the rainbows had vanished.

But the deep peace abided, an other-world kind of peace that has no basis in circumstances or status.

Pure gift.


Not long after I returned home, my husband called, his voice hoarse with emotion.

“Mom’s gone. She’s gone to be with Dad.”

They had been telling stories and laughing about their hard-headed father, who’d died only months before. The sister who’d been caring for their mother so long was holding her hand when she slipped away.

I loved her very much, and I knew that somehow, the Lord had included me in her home-going, 1,300 miles away.

These tiny glimpses of heaven are promises of what is to come, encouragement when the sky is dark and life is brutal. When progress seems so long in coming. When we lose a loved one.

Have you recently experienced a great loss?

Or do you face the gradual seeping away of hope?

Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. 2 Corinthians 4:16-18 (NIV)