Tag: God

Chasing Sunsets

- dannalundstrom

I have always felt the nearness of Heaven splashed across God’s mighty canvas in breathtaking color. I see the beautiful skies as a veil between an earthly vapor and a vast eternity. Yet, amidst the beauty, suffering remains.

All weekend brokenness has intruded my space and pierced my ears as a deafening interruption. It is there in my loss and yours. It is present in a friend’s diagnosis and in stories of loneliness, suffering and death.

But HOPE. It rises up and flourishes in the presence of the muck and mire that at some point, all are called to wade through. And it gives us the courage to live for the Destination in spite of the details.

In this land of parched living, my soul thirsts to find You and my people in the places I find rest. There, the heartache is bearable because I am in the presence of scriptural truths not sentimental tales.

Tonight, on the side of a mountain cliff, I stood on a solid rock to take this picture because I needed a glimpse of your glory. How perfect; the rock was my firm foundation at the edge of peril. But that is where I found You.

It is hearts closely aquatinted with grief that offer me so much comfort. In my reading I found this,

“But resurrection is not just consolation — it is restoration. We get it all back — the love, the loved ones, the goods, the beauties of this life — but in new, unimaginable degrees of glory and joy and strength.” ~Tim Keller

He Already Knew

- dannalundstrom
Last week I was apologizing to a friend, and she kindly said to me, “I had my mind made up about you a long time ago.” Those words gently landed on my heart leaving an imprint that I don’t think I will soon forget. They have clothed my mind like a warm hug every day since.This morning when I walked out onto my porch, I was marveling at the beautiful sky, and those words softly sang to me again, I had my mind made up about you a long time ago. I think God must want us, His children, to know that. No matter how far we fall, where we stray, how dark the depression or crushing the anxiety; God already knew, and He loves us anyway. ‪Abba‬ Father knew every word of our story because His hands authored each plot, twist, turn, comma, period and question mark. Through the highs and the lows, our sins and sufferings, redemption and renewal God was there; He saw us and had His mind made up.For a long time I was a passively, complacent child, but sometimes great loss pushes us out of our places of unexamined comfort to positions of challenging questions. Questions force me to dig deeper, searching for answers, understanding, and acceptance. But God’s ways are not predicated on my approval, rather His assurance.

Some questions, especially spiritual ones, have no clear answers and the Bible tells me that in Deuteronomy 29:29~ “The secret things belong to the LORD our God…God does not want or expect me to understand everything. He asks that I trust His faithfulness not my feelings. Still, God knows that like the persistent child I am, I will circle back to wrestling and striving to comprehend that which is not for me to realize. Because He made up His mind about me a long time ago, despite it all, He still calls me His beloved.

Sometimes in the midst of life’s chaos, one of my biggest challenges is as one writer put it, “living loved.” I think one key to “loved living” is to remember that God made His mind up a long time ago, and I have little power to make myself unloveable to Him. The same is true for you, friend. May we live loved today-God’s Day.

Grace and Grief

- dannalundstrom

Disrupted dreams. How often does life turn out different than our embellished expectations? It is a steep road to navigate when we are holding the shattered pieces of our “pretty” pictures in the palms of our bleeding hands. Life is unfair and not partial to my dreams. I have been struggling lately with the temptation to shut down. Close the door. Close it tight on the hope that offers me the glorious burden of present realization versus rejection.

There is only one hope that stands eternal, and that is not the one that resides in this world built around unsafe scenarios. It is a future hope, secured by the gift of everlasting life obtained by the sacrifice of Jesus Christ. But, here, now, I battle to not close myself off to my desires while striking a balance of preventing rainbows from becoming requirements. It is an unpredictable place to be where peace becomes precarious.

The challenge is leaning into life with open hands softly cupped around pliant pages of immaculate intentions.

It. Is. Hard. I am stubborn, born of flesh that efficiently demands fruition. My hands are sticky. Like the freshly spun strands of spider silk, arrangements cling to me, and I wrestle to break free. But when I am standing amidst the shards of well-crafted storylines, reality reminds me that it is a harsh and unforgiving rival. And so I come to a crossroads where I peer at the scandalous hand of hope or the hostile hike of desensitizing from a world that supplies both grace and grief.

Father, you know me and all my intricacies. Remind me that you knitted me together, every fiber when the shame of a not-all-together life creeps in. Help me to open my hands and my heart so that my mind is mailable to your purposes, not my pursuits. There is nothing in me that is strong, good or steadfast except You. When I remember that truth, I no longer answer to the copious condemnation that shadows me. I had not envisioned life or an impending empty nest without the presence of my mom. I am moment by moment dependant on you to whisper that you are with me and there will be mana for every step but only available for the moment in which I stand. The future lends anxiety. Please help me to be an occupant of the present. Remnants of regret litter the past. Flood my heart and mind with the memories of precious times. This day, this moment is where You meet me, and although there is future grace, I was never permitted to stray there. Enable me to stand in the two faces of hope; free to smile, free to laugh, live and love not because I deserve it, but because You secured it.

To hide is not to honor You. To thrive is a testimony to You. May I remember that all the days of my life.

Sincerely, a daughter who desperately needs and loves You.

Within this shadow box is a special and tangible reminder of my beautiful mom. I will treasure it forever. 

Grief, A Ruthless Friend

- dannalundstrom
body of water during golden hour

It is incredible how the mind defaults into a self-defense posture one minute, only to fail me the next. The reality of grief is always there, lurking, but the full realization, while it may have reached my head, has not settled in the depths of my heart.

It has been said that is the longest distance, head to heart, and I know it to be right, on this dirt road that many are asked to walk in this life. No mileage signs signal an end, only hazard ahead around each bend.

Grief is a ruthless friend, but one that every loss must respect. He allows me to forget momentarily, then quickly be disheartened by the raw reality that is waiting on the other side of remembrance.

Countless times I reach for my phone to call her. There are so many things I want her to know. I want her to share my highs and lows and all the spaces in between; after all, that is the way a mama’s love goes. They say time heals all wounds, but I do not believe that is true. Some aches seem I will never be able to bid adieu. And if I am honest, never would I want to.

My mind is deceiving me, as it is prone to do. Feelings charade as facts, leaving me vacillating between pain and perseverance. The later must win in the end, but right now the two of them are stumbling hand in hand. To laugh, to live to carry on is to betray the loss, my disloyal thoughts deceptively whisper. On a head level, I know that is fraudulent and untrue. Maybe if I remind myself enough times, my heart will catch up too. For now, I am grappling for the grace to journey straight through the thick and heavy dew.

People are so kind and well-intended; they say do this, or that, believe this or that, and these things you must do. The problem is there is no universal recipe for the profound loss that accompanies the days I must filter through.

And my faith, it feels weak, that is undoubtedly true, but it is not up to me, for it was a gift secured by a Savior in which I had nothing to do. So I struggle, limping and tracked by the tears, as I walk the best I can, crying out and fighting to trust the only Man who will see me through. I thank Him, then question Him. I wrestle with Him and rest in Him, as all wounded warriors do. I am a paradox of emotions, The Psalms living and breathing as they once were for the writers overcome by grief so blue.

Trauma, the place I am traveling through, someday to be ousted by thankfulness-a destination I sometimes see but am not yet fully submitted to; for it is a harbor I am fighting my way towards when the anointed time is due.

A Tangible Gift From The Lord

- dannalundstrom

This is one of those stories that must be told; a God story about His tender and personal faithfulness to me, His daughter, in the midst of great sorrow.

Yesterday morning, (last Saturday, 09/01), was the second worst morning of my life, and that same afternoon I had to get in a car and head to the airport to come home only hours after laying on my mom sobbing my eyes out. During the entire drive to Houston Hobby Airport I was praying, Lord, please let me sit next to someone kind on the airplane who will be empathetic and not bothered by my tears. I texted three friends and asked them to pray for that as well.

I made it to my gate and found a corner to sit in trying to go unnoticed as I was visibly grieving. After a few minutes I looked up and I could not believe my eyes. My precious friend, Monica, who is in my Wednesday morning Bible study was walking up to my gate. I got up and ran to her. She knew my situation, but she was equally shocked to see me as I was her. She thought I was in Dallas and I had no idea she would be in Houston. As it turned out she was in Houston for the night to see her daughter dance at the Ole Miss/Texas Tech football game that was being played in Houston. Our eyes met and I grabbed her, I am not sure who was more confused.

This was one of the most chilling, in a good way, God winks I have ever experienced.

A direct, personal and tangible gift from The Lord.

We were able to sit together on the plane and she kept me mostly distracted and calm. I will never forget how God not only honored my need but in such a sweet way by sending someone who was already praying for me and that I knew and loved. In the midst of my tears and heartache a gift I will never forget walking toward me and reminding me God is always going before me. He is working things out on my behalf and planting priceless pearls of peace to intersect my pain. And, I would also like to think my mama had a little something to do with it as well.

The Freedom of Self-Forgiveness

- dannalundstrom

Dear friend,

Do you need to forgive yourself for a mistake but you cannot seem to find the freedom to do so despite your aching desire? If God has forgiven you and me, and He should be the only person that matters, why is it so hard for us to do?
I think sometimes it is easier for me to feel shame or flagrant self-pity, which are both convincing imposters of comfort. Other times I am prone to unconsciously acquiesce to the faulty theology that God does not freely forgive me when I repent and ask for forgiveness.

My unbelief leads me to trust it comes when I earn it when I have worked hard enough when I have paid what I deem to be a reasonable penalty when I have beat myself up enough and more self-imposed modes of retribution, none of which ever are enough. Notice the word; I was used five times in the preceding sentence. Therein lies my problem. I maximize my faulty resourcefulness and minimize my Savior’s free reward. God’s love and forgiveness never change, my remembrance to rest in that truth does.

I love today’s wisdom from Oswald Chambers in My Utmost for His Highest: “The message of the prophets is that although they have forsaken God, it has not altered God. The Apostle Paul emphasizes the same truth that God remains God even when we are unfaithful (see 2 Timothy 2:13). Never interpret God as changing with our changes. He never does; there is no variableness in Him.”

Isaiah 30:15 is critical for me to turn towards and commit to daily, repeating it to myself, sometimes out loud, to “train my brain” to default there instead of destructing elsewhere. It says: For thus the Lord GOD, the Holy One of Israel, has said: “In repentance and rest you will be saved, In quietness and trust is your strength.”
One parallel verse is Isaiah 45:22 ~ Turn to Me and be saved, all the ends of the earth; for I am God, and there is no other. Those two verses, along with multitudes of others are like the cover of a shady tree on a sweltering day. So often the help I need is readily available to me, I am just slow to remember it as my first line of defense instead of my last lane of desperation.  

God’s light is always on.

You are loved.

The Light

- dannalundstrom

It appears there are two, but there are four.

Darkness skews our vision.

Deceives us.

Lies.

It masks reality.

When it feels like there is only darkness around you and before you, remember the light is always behind you.

Shining.

Guiding.

Supporting.

Lighting the way.

Leading to paths of rest, redemption and righteousness.

Don’t give up.

The darkness, no matter how deceptive it is, will never extinguish the hope that is exclusive to the Light.

Standing In The Storm

- dannalundstrom

To be alive is to know pain and heartache. Life gives us many trials, and often they are more significant than our mind and bodies can endure. If we spend too much time looking at the storms, we will drown. We do have to acknowledge them, and sometimes even stand in the very vortex of them, but we do not have to be swallowed up by them. We can choose to fix our attention on something higher.

As an ice skater must set her sight on an unchanging, reliable point when she is spinning to maintain stability; we too must set our eyes on a never-changing rock that anchors us amidst the battering waves of life’s adversity. It is where we fix our gaze that is the determining factor for our level of peace.

Sometimes if we are honest, there can be comfort in the storms, and we find it much easier to reside there.

Impostures thrive in darkness.

We must fight to keep our eyes locked on The Light. Fight for eternal not earthly sight, friends.

Our vision shapes our perspective and our perspective, our thoughts. It is so crucial that we are good managers of our minds, for as the mind regards, the man responds.

For the things we see now will soon be gone, but the things we cannot see will last forever. ~2 Corinthians 4:18

This hope is a secure and trustworthy anchor for our souls. ~ Hebrews 6:19

Remember Who is Driving The Car

- dannalundstrom


When Carter turned two-years-old, I enrolled him in a mother’s day out program at our church two days a week. What I thought would be a short respite for me with a newborn baby quickly became a place of pain. Each Tuesday, Thursday when I loaded him in his car seat, his little face would peak with concern. The very second he saw we were turning down the road to MDO he would begin to cry and say, “no, mommy, no mommy.” “I stay with you, mommy.” It would break my heart! The school assured me shortly after I left that he was happy and playing with the other kids, but my heart would remain so heavy and haunted by his tears and pleas. Ultimately, though, I had to keep reminding myself that it was for his good, despite my grief. He needed the playtime, the socialization, the learning and so much more that the precious program had to offer that he could not get anywhere else.

I was thinking this morning as I was again shedding tears in this time of change and transition, did I mention I do not like an interruption of the predictable, but that experience was such a picture of God, our good, good, Father. Sometimes he allows us to be “driven” down dirt roads that have a lot of potholes and bumps. The journeys can be frightening, and often it feels like our cries for relief go unheard. But it is essential we remember Who is driving the car and that He never leads us anywhere that is not ultimately for our benefit. I know some circumstances look as though they could never prosper us, only persecute us. We are not God, though. Thank goodness for that! His vision is eternal and from a much broader, all-encompassing perspective. We can be assured, however, that He never leaves us alone with our tears. He hears our weeping and holds every sorrow. (Psalm 56:8)

I do not know what road you are maneuvering today, friend. But this I know for sure, if you remain the passenger, and let Abba Father steer the wheel, it may hurt, and it may sting but hang on to the truth that He is ultimately guiding you to a destination that will be for your gain and His glory. It may take a while to realize the results of the pilgrimage you or a loved one are traveling; sometimes it is not in this life. But faith is the conviction of what we do not see, not certainty in what we do. (Hebrews 11:1) Persevering faith is everlasting; present fact is equivocal. Believe in where you are and where you are going, not because you understand it, but because of The One Who does.

Blessed Hope

- dannalundstrom

If you need hope today where it feels hopeless may I tell you a story? I have a masters degree in Speech-Language Pathology and my second, and favorite job ever was on the rehab floor of a large hospital. I worked with patients who had a variety of ailments from strokes to brain tumors and total or partial loss of their tongue due to cancer. It was something new every day, and it was such a pleasure to be a witness to some remarkable recoveries and a sacred honor to hold the hand of some as they passed on to glory.

There is not a case that will forever stand out to me like that of a sixteen-year-old boy. He flipped his truck and was thrown from the automobile. After weeks in the ICU, he was moved to our floor. All medical indicators proved he was a vegetable. There was no brain activity and no evidence of hope as he lay lifeless and completely unresponsive. The doctors told his family his condition would never improve. They encouraged them to take him off all life-sustaining measures, but the family was resolute in holding steadfast to an unwavering belief.

I along with occupational and physical therapy was called in to work with him on a daily basis. This would be my most significant challenge. Graduate school taught me a lot of things but working with an entirely lifeless person, especially one so young was not one of them. I was at a loss.

This was in the mid-1990’s, and for those of you who remember, the songs YMCA and Young Man by The Village People were all the rage. What was a green and clueless SLP to do, why to sing along to fun music and dance of course? Daily I would use pungent scents to try and elicit a response, move his limbs and so on all while playing and singing those two songs at decibels that I am confident were unhealthy.

Weeks went by, and there was no change. I did not expect him ever to gain any level of awareness much less normalcy. Then one day I was in his room with one of the nursing aides. She was taking his vitals, and she dropped something to which she loudly exclaimed, “shit!” At that moment I witnessed a miracle. The “brain-dead,” teenage patient laughed! As you can imagine, when we reported this there was a flurry of activity in and out of his room. The doctors were dumbfounded. Right there on that fifty-bed rehab floor, a miracle had taken place.

The next time I was able to work with my miracle patient, he still had many limitations including his speech, but when I went in and greeted him that morning, through a very strained, slow and slurred voice his words to me were, Y-Y-Y, M-M-M, C-C-C, A-A-A. It was incredible. I asked him if he could hear me all along and he indicated that he could, he just was not able to respond.

This young man was soon after transferred to a facility closer to his home as he lived a state over to the east. The last report I heard on him many months later was that he was speaking some as well as using an assistive device to augment his communication skills. He was receiving aquatic therapy, and it was looking promising that one day he would walk again, even if in a modified form.

I don’t know where or how he is today, but I do know I experienced first-hand that miracles do happen. I learned that doctors and textbooks are not always right and the resolve of a family determined not to give up despite the odds sometimes wins.

Friend, I do not know what dirt road you are walking today, but if you need a fresh dose of faith, I hope you will take it from this story. Miracles still happen in this life, but if not, we still have what the Bible calls a “blessed hope” in Titus 2:13. That blessed hope is Jesus and His gift of eternal life for all those who have accepted His gift of grace and eternity in Heaven. If you are unsure if that is you, or you know that is not you but you want to be an heir of blessed hope, please find a friend to talk to who can lead you into a beautiful inheritance as a son or daughter of the King. As always, you may contact me, too. dannalundstrom@yahoo.com

You are loved today.♥️