Tag: hope

A Beautiful and Broken Union

- dannalundstrom
I was standing at my kitchen sink crying and smiling this morning as I washed my grandmother’s Christmas Rose, China, and some of my mom’s serving pieces that I now own. I noticed the strong incongruence in my soul. There I stood, looking out at the frigid, yet beautiful, weather on the eve of such a glorious day, a broken heart full of broken pictures as the ballad of my soul played its hymn; this is not how it is supposed to be. But then there was an accompanying melody of, thank you, Jesus, for how it was. Imperfect moments, incomplete holidays accompanied by irreplaceable memories; both beauty and brokenness reigned there in the ordinary, yet extraordinary moment at my kitchen window.
This year, I have followed countless stories of friends, family, and strangers near and far as they have navigated some of the most ruthless roads. Their stories tell of the same sentiment, hurting but not deprived of hope. Their paths are oxymorons, and the perplexing weight of that juxtaposition is heavy. Fractured people, fractured countries, a fractured world, but all encapsulated by a forever kind of grace that guides us through the weary when we cannot feel or see her presence. It is not supposed to be this way, but it is. It is hard but not absent of holy!
A couple of Christmases ago, as I was sitting in a Christmas Eve service singing Silent Night while lighting the candles. God showed me a picture. For the dormant candles to be kindled, the light from our neighbor must remain upright and firm, while the one receiving the light must bend, lean, and become vulnerable, to be ignited. At times we are the beacons, and at times we are the broken. We each have light to give and light to receive, but the cycle cannot be sustained without both the shattering and the shining of souls.
The examples of the ever-present and unchanging reality, the union of beauty and brokenness, are more pervasive than I can list. They are present in every moment and every memory, our tears, our triumphs, our pain and passions, our struggles, and our strengths. Where there is beauty, there will always be brokenness, and it was that way from the beginning.
I am thankful that The Son of God, The King of the world, was born in a dirty stable and laid in a messy manger. The Light of the world, God’s most perfect gift, a Savior for the world, entered this life, and surrounding His arrival was beautiful and broken. Broken circumstances, broken parents, broken leaders, broken countries, and broken plans were the backdrops that set the stage for the most handsome inheritance the world would ever know. It reminds and comforts me when life is not congruent with my heart; it remains in the care of my Savior’s hands. More often than not, it is a fight to remember, and that is alright as long as the fight goes on.
Many of you are experiencing the poverty of loss, illness, and other difficult circumstances this Christmas Eve. I pray you find strength from the life of a baby born into bankrupt surroundings, who suffered among both the sick and the “sufficient” so that He may bring the beauty of His perfect light to mingle among the broken parts of our lives. Jesus, give us eyes to see your grace flowing through our moments of grief, and may that console, sustain, and encourage us through mangled moments as we journey Home.
Merry Christmas, friends!

A Hard and Holy Christmas

- dannalundstrom 2 Comments

A Hard and Holy Christmas

I wish for life to be like a Hallmark movie where love and contentment always win. The ending is tidy and sealed in a pretty package accentuated with a red bow, but that is entertainment and far removed from reality. These movies lead me off course every year around the holidays. They provide a magical escape from the tender truths that are indigenous to what many profess to be the happiest time of the year. There is a not-so-jolly presence that we cannot escape, though. Suffering. The Christmas season is prone to hold a magnifying glass up to an unfair world.

The shattered fragments of people’s pain wear many faces, hold no prejudices, and do not adhere to calendars or circumstances. Maybe the agony shows up in the loss of health, a job, a relationship; a loved one, or the incredible heartache that settles in when we hear someone has to bury their child. Broken people, broken families, broken worlds; may all present differently, but fractured hearts are inherent to us all. The holidays, as merry and bright as they are for many, are equally melancholy for others.

Life is incongruent with my desire for everyone to be happy, but I have learned this difficult lesson: happiness is a circumstantial frailty, not a gospel actuality. Without the assurance of our eternal inheritance, we stand here poor, hopeless, and lost.

Hope is hard and holy, yet both were the backdrop for the birth of our Savior. Nothing in this world lacks the melodic marriage of beauty and brutality. That is not easy, but when we focus on the tenants of the first, it fosters gratitude despite the latter.

In his last words, a 1700s French writer captured something very tragic yet significant. “And so I leave this world, where the heart must either break or turn to lead.” ~ Nicolas Chamfort

Sometimes our greatest challenge as we go about living in this world that is remarkable one moment and ruthless the next is continuing to engage. It is tempting to check out, but we are called to check-in. Numbing our hearts feels like safety, but it dims love and light in a world that desperately needs them. Is leaning into life straightforward in our climate of unparalleled death, destruction, and hatred? No, it is not effortless, but it is essential.

I know many of you are facing unspeakable burdens. My heart aches for you. Right now, pressing in may feel overwhelming. That is understandable. Take the next smallest step in the right direction, and your stamina will increase over time if you keep your hand to the plow. We, unfortunately, have to drink from the cup of hurt before we can be quenched by the hand of The Healer; but God will not forsake His children. One way He manifests himself is through community. I pray wherever you find yourself today, the love of those around you warms, even if just slightly, the weeping heart inside you. Your internal song may never be the same, but I know your soul will sing again. The lessons grief teaches will remain with you and be the balm for the next hurting heart that crosses your path. At the intersection of someone else’s pain, yours will find purpose, and that makes all the difference!

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

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. 

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.♥️

Welcome, Lord

- dannalundstrom

Weary, friend, I know the road you are traveling feels lonely, exhausting and at times unbearable. Sometimes you are so ready for peace, and it feels like God is not answering your plea for help.

This week The Lord has been reminding me that often I am more disillusioned by the failure of my arrangements than the fruition of His answers. He is answering, but probably not within the parameters of the controlled, tidy box where I frame MY plans. His purpose is much higher than we can imagine, and God’s seemingly silent ambivalence does not mean absence, but very often action.

It is within the realm of our trials that the resurrection is awakening.

Remember, not to put your outcome in a box; God does not fit there. Keep looking up. Take the next right step and remain faithful.  As pilgrims, we must not get so busy wishing ourselves out of situations that we forget to welcome God into them.

I love this quote and hope it encourages you:

“The secret is Christ in me, not me in a different set of circumstances.”
Elisabeth Elliot, Keep a Quiet Heart

You are loved!♥️

Tears, Fears and Truth

- dannalundstrom 1 Comment

In the late afternoon on the day Carter was born, a nurse came into my room and told me she needed to take him for an echocardiogram. The doctor that examined him earlier detected a heart murmur and they needed to investigate further.

I was scared and immediately broke down in tears. I didn’t want them to take my baby anywhere, especially somewhere that might bring bad news.

It had been a difficult pregnancy. It was an arduous delivery. There were a few moments of silence when he entered the world and my heart stopped, only to stutter again a few hours later.

My nurse was on the latter end of her career. Advanced in age, not much appeared to faze her. “Don’t cry,” she quipped. “Save your tears. You will need them later.” At the time, I thought how insensitive she was. I was young and naive.

When I was pregnant with Macey, we thought we would lose her several times. Then there was a point early on that I ended up in the ICU with a collapsed lung and a chest tube. I wondered if we would both be lost?

My pregnancies were so complicated that I remember crying out to God so often to please let my children be born so I would know they were safe. As I said before, I was so naive. I never knew I would shed so many tears. I have good kids. It isn’t that.

It is that the “good” things have become the hard things.

Kindergarten graduation. The transition from elementary school to junior high school, then to high school. Letting them go off in a car. Driving. Camps. One and two week-long camps with no communication. Empty nest staring me in the face. And for Heaven’s sake, I never knew there would be tears and trepidation just over sending them to school.

I was so naive back then, but in more ways than one.

The most important difference now is that I know I am not their Savior.

I know now that God is sovereign and understanding that and standing under it look very different.

I know now that nothing takes God by surprise.

I know that He has already assigned all of our days, ALL OF THEM, mine and my children.

I know now that I have very little control and forgetting that is costly to me and those I love.

I know now that battles are better fought in prayer than panic.

I know now that as long as I am breathing, as long as anyone is breathing, evil will exist and I will not understand it, but I am not called to figure it out rather trust without doubt. Easier said than done, but worth fighting for.

I know now that this world is not my home, not my family’s home, and because of our eternal destination hope and gratitude trump fear.

I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth, you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.” ~John 16:33

I am saying a few extra prayers for all you mamas tonight. You are loved.❤

The Rock Of Empathy and Understanding

- dannalundstrom

Have you been misunderstood, wronged, hurt, betrayed or falsely accused?  Everyone has at some point.

You know what is the most difficult thing for me to do, but the right and respectable thing, taking it to prayer rather than people? Bringing my hurt to The Father rather than Facebook, and to the Scriptures rather than my stories.

We all desire to be affirmed and understood, but when that desire becomes more about needing the validation of people than God,  I know I have a problem.

This is a great and convicting quote from Julie Sparkman’s book, Unhitching From The Crazy Train, co-written by Jennifer Phillips.  “When you are wronged, instead of pleading, “God, make this right!” you begin to pray, “Jesus,  You know what it feels like to be mocked, misunderstood, and falsely accused. I do long for You to make this right, but in the meantime, would You show me how to honor You as I bear up under injustice?  These Christlike prayers and attitudes come from the Scripture that is stored in your heart.”

I love this!

We have a Savior who suffered to know and identify with us in our affliction.  I am the first to forget to submit mine to Him, the Rock of empathy and understanding.  He is there for me and for you, friend.  Let’s not forget Him.

You are loved.

Unhitching From The Crazy Train is available at Lifeway and on Amazon 2/5/18. Also, you can order from newhopepublishers.com. 

www.restore-ministries.org

Shine Where You Are Planted

- dannalundstrom

 

Uncertainty is one of the most significant barriers to a prolific life. There is a formidable enemy who loves to entangle our eyes and command our concern with questions such as, what if…?

In the presence of the unknown, and that would be every moment forward, it is easy to stumble into the mire of temporal thinking. The danger here is that we are rendered useless in the present because of our preoccupation with the worrisome possibilities of the future.

Lord Jesus, we often lug old crosses into the New Year, some shaded in a cloud of ambiguity. Help us to fix our senses on You, our unwavering Father, not an uncertain future. Give us the grace to be fruitful where we are right now, not where we think we need to be.
Comfortable, peaceful and problem-free are not prerequisites for productivity, as evidenced by the life of your Son. May we remember that and move forward with the perseverance that only comes from a dependant heart rooted in You.

Friend, I pray 2018 is a remarkable year for you, but this I know for sure, trials will come. There will inevitably be a voice telling you, “I cannot do anything until I get through this, (fill in the blank).”  If we live our lives listening to that lie, we will be shackled by stagnation.

We are just as valuable in the midst of our limping as we are running, sometimes even more.

Shine where you are planted and watch what grows not only inside of you but also around you.

I wish you an abundant New Year! I love you all.

 Photo: Havana, Cuba.

A Pilar of Comfort

- dannalundstrom

When Carter was in the intensive care unit in Oregon after his traumatic brain injury, he was struggling with pain and double vision. In the early morning hours after an arduous night, he asked me to come and lay beside him because he saw two of me and he would feel better if the real one was close to him. As I laid there, my heart ached because I could not take the pain away. I wanted to be his substitute but had to settle as his soother instead.

Friend, God must see you, His child, like I saw mine in those wrenching moments. He looks down and knows you are struggling, in pain and hurting. For reasons you do not understand, He cannot take the pain away, but He does desire for you to invite him to come and lay down beside you so that He may be a pillar of comforter and peace.

The love of God does not negate our suffering, but it gives us what we need to get through and beyond it.

I pray you welcome Him into your circumstances tonight and that His peace is perceivable in your weary heart and pacifying to your worn out hands.

Be watchful. His steadfast faithfulness manifests in many ways.

You are loved.❤️