Tag: mom

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. 

Purpose Not Perfection

- dannalundstrom

An excellent wife (woman, friend, student, sister, daughter, mom…), who can find one?

Friends, do not confuse being excellent with being perfect. It is when we live with purpose, not perfection that we make an impact in the world around us. I do not know about you, but I cannot relate to “perfect” people.

I value authenticity in relationships. Transparency, not togetherness is what makes a woman excellent! It is the hard parts, the broken pieces and the raw portions that make you wise, strong, and radiant.

Genuine beauty comes from a life made sober by the fires of failure, the ashes of affiliation, the pearls of perseverance, the hearts of hope and the realities of redemption.

Part of growing in grace is loving ourselves, not the cleaned up parts but the complete person.

If we are Christ followers, with seasoning, we come to learn that in God’s story, our story, all is gain. That is not to say circumstances are not difficult. Many of you are bearing unimaginable pain. I want to remind you today that whatever you are in the midst of, your pain does not eliminate your excellence. It enhances it. You are loved!

You are loved!

It Is All About Him

- dannalundstrom

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When I was growing up, it was all about me. When I was in college, it was all about those friends and that guy. When I became a mom, it was all about the kids and family. All of the above mentioned, (emphasis on self-included) have failed me, and in this life will continue to do so. Now that I understand that, it’s all about a Savior, who although I fail him every day, he approves of me still!  Today and every day, may I remember it is all about Him!

Grace and Gratitude

- dannalundstrom

 

Last Thursday my son became ill with a severe intestinal bug. I have never seen him struggle with one so fierce. It has been days of cleaning up, changing sheets, throwing away sheets, scrubbing and sanitizing. Also in the adventure was a trip to the ER for IV hydration and medications. Poor guy has been through it. It was no fun for me either.

The first evening when he woke up, he and his bed covered with vomit, I kicked into mom mode. The cleanup was not fun. It encompassed a large span of space. Once I got that cleaned up, there was another bigger mess waiting for me to clean up, and so was the chorus of the next several days. One thing that keep surprisingly capturing my attention was the grace God was giving me in every moment of all the messes. Very briefly on several occasions I wanted to complain. Before the words could even take full root in my mind, much less form from my lips, I found myself praising God instead. I would say this is not the natural bend of my heart, but praising God has quickly become much more my default through no merit of my own, only His.

I was praising God for the opportunity to take care of my son. I was praising Him for the opportunity to clean up, wash and care for my son because just seven months earlier he nearly lost his life in a tragic accident.

When you stand in the shadow of death, you often discover the shelter of gratitude. The mundane in the midst of the messy become little fountains of joy that water your soul in parched places.

I felt the searing sting of near loss, and anything but gratitude naturally felt unnatural. Anything but gratitude felt dishonoring to the deep appreciation purposed from a place of such pain.

Suddenly I was grateful for:
Good mattress protectors, washing machines, latex gloves,
Lysol wipes, Lysol Neutra Air spray, adult pull ups, trash bags, beach towels, two sunny days, windows that open, laughter, lotion, candles, GRACE Oh precious GRACE
and last but not least all of my
sisters in Christ who were persistently sending me texts of prayer and encouragement.

I never before knew the wealth of gratitude ushered by grief. It sounds incongruent until it is your reality. I am very thankful for the beauty born for brokenness. I am very thankful for the surprising mercies of God’s grace. Thank you, Lord for allowing me to find the splendor wrapped in the struggle of the last six days.

My Plans, His Providences

- dannalundstrom

Isaiah 30:21

Whether you turn to the right or the left, you ears will hear a voice behind you, saying; “This is the way, walk in it.”

path

 

Yesterday was a rough day, today will be a good day. I was painfully reminded of this verse yesterday: Proverbs 16:9~ In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps. As a mom we pray, research, investigate…what is best for our kids, and then we plan for them accordingly. I forgot in my planning, and subsequently “sealing of the deal” in my mind, nothing is ever permanent or guaranteed, (even when you have it in writing), except the will of God. When we hold our plans too tightly in our hands, it can really shake us when those paths are providentially re-directed. A potter works his masterpiece with skilled hands, applying just the right amount of pressure at the right time. If squeezed too hard, the clay begins to twist, or in potters language, torque.The key is knowing just the right amount of pressure to apply and when. If the potter grasps the piece too firmly with both hands and holds on tightly during the perfecting, molding process, it will not turn out as he planned. Life is a lot like that, too. We must hold all our plans loosely in our hands so that God can change, refine and perfect them with his accurate hands, not ours. I forget so easily when I forget I’m not in control.