September 7, 2006 journal entry:
Sometimes life is just plain difficult. This is a journal entry shortly after my husband passed. Perhaps you've lost a loved one and can relate.
Subject: The pearls
The cheerful little girl with bouncy golden curls was almost five. Waiting with her mother at the checkout stand, she saw them, a circle of glistening white pearls in a pink foil box “Oh mommy please, Mommy. Can I have them? Please, Mommy, please?”
Quickly the mother checked the back of the little foil box and then looked back into the pleading blue eyes of her little girl’s upturned face.
“A dollar ninety-five. That’s almost $2.00. If you really want them, I’ll think of some extra chores for you and in no time you can save enough money to buy them for yourself. Your birthday’s only a week away and you might get another crisp dollar bill from Grandma.”
As soon as Jenny got home, she emptied her penny bank and counted out 17 pennies. After dinner, she did more than her share of chores and she went to the neighbor and asked if she could pick dandelions for ten cents. On her birthday, Grandma did give her another new dollar bill and at last she had enough money to buy the necklace.
Jenny loved her pearls. They made her feel dressed up and grown up. She wore them everywhere, Sunday school, kindergarten, even to bed. The only time she took them off was when she went swimming or had a bubble bath. Mother said if they got wet, they might turn her neck green. That’s because they are counterfeit. Keep that in mind.
Jenny had a very loving daddy and every night when she was ready for bed, he would stop whatever he was doing and come upstairs to read her a story.
One night as he finished the story, he asked Jenny, “Do you love me?”
“Oh yes, daddy. You know that I love you.”
“Then give me your pearls.”
“Oh, daddy, not my pearls. But you can have Princess, the white horse from my collection, the one with the pink tail. Remember, daddy? The one you gave me. She’s my very favorite.”
“That’s okay, Honey, daddy loves you. Good night.” And he brushed her cheek with a kiss.
About a week later, after the story time, Jenny’s daddy asked again, “Do you love me?”
“Daddy, you know I love you.”
“Give me your pearls.”
“Oh Daddy, not my pearls. But you can have my baby doll. The brand new one I got for my birthday. She is beautiful and you can have the yellow blanket that matches her sleeper.”
"That’s okay. Sleep well. God bless you, little one. Daddy loves you.“
And as always, he brushed her cheek with a gentle kiss.
A few nights later when her daddy came in, Jenny was sitting on her bed with her legs crossed Indian style.
As he came close, he noticed her chin was trembling and one silent tear rolled down her cheek. "What is it, Jenny? What’s the matter?”
Jenny didn’t say anything but lifted her little hand up to her daddy. And when she opened it, there was her little pearl necklace. With a little quiver, she finally said, “Here, daddy; this is for you.”
With tears gathering in his own eyes, Jenny’s daddy reached out with one hand to take the dime store necklace, and with the other hand he reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue velvet case with a strand of genuine pearls and gave them to Jenny.
He had them all the time. He was just waiting for her to give up the dime-store stuff so he could give her the genuine treasure. No more counterfeit.
So it is, with our Heavenly Father. He is waiting for us to give up the cheap things in our lives so that he can give us beautiful treasures. Poor little Jenny was afraid she would lose out by giving up something that she was familiar with. The fear of letting go kept her from getting the real blessing from her daddy.
Isn’t God good? Are you holding onto things that God wants you to let go of so he can bless you with his own presence and something far greater than what you are refusing to let go of.
Are you holding on to harmful or unnecessary partners, relationships, habits and activities, beliefs that you have come so attached to that it seems impossible to let go? Sometimes it is so hard to see what is in the other hand but do believe this one thing.
God will never take away something without giving you something of far greater value and much better in its place.
Will you trust him?
I want to…Help me Lord.
Charles Swindoll spoke on Revelation and was teaching on the Church of Philadelphia. He stated that there is a world of opportunity out there. I know that is true. I believe it. But my heart hurts so badly. He stated that too often, we sit in front of a closed door, crying for what should have been, mourning our dream gone sour, or a dream that has dried up and blown into the wind, for so long that we fail to get in on the opportunities in front of us because we are mourning at the closed door. God has a plan and usually the closed door is the means by which he is trying to bring us to himself. He wants to give us the blessing, but we can’t receive it because we are sitting at the closed door rather than looking in anticipation at the door of opportunities. I am guilty as charged God. I admit it. I have been sitting here crying and mourning my husband’s absence. I miss him so terribly. I feel like I have a heavy weight attached to my heart and it isn’t getting any better; what’s left of my heart anyway. I think the stick of dynamite that went off, just blew my heart to bits. There is very little still intact. Only enough to keep blood pumping through my veins for physical life. The rest is lying down inside my gut, bleeding profusely. My life’s blood dripping from the part that is still attached…Will the pain ever end? Death? I’m sad that this thought even enters my mind. Of course it is only a thought, but I get how Satan interjects that thought and then people go through with it, just to ease the pain.
Here is the picture God gave me in my mind’s eye. I remember watching a documentary, or a movie where someone is locked up in prison. The metal door closing, sliding shut, and you can hear it lock into place as it slams shut…an awful sound. That is the sound I hear. The difference is that this door is solid metal…there are no bars…and it is slammed shut….then silence. You, Babe, are on one side of the door, and I’m on the other. We are so close, but so far away and I can’t reach you. I know you are there, but I can’t touch you, see you, feel you….It is like that veil we are told about…where we can only see on this side of the veil, and we will have to wait to see what is on the other side…but right now…even though the metal door is thick, it seems so thin, because I know you are there, just on the other side…but at the same time, so thick, because I can’t touch it, see through it, or feel your presence here. God help me! I miss him…will the pain ever go away?
I have already admitted my selfishness. Seems like there is always a new reservoir of selfishness sitting in the bottom of my heart waiting to direct my path away from where I should be or what I should be focused on. I admit that I have been selfish because I have been longing to go home to be with my Baby. I long for that more than I long for going home to be with Jesus. And yet I know that if I were to go home tonight, I would be more thrilled to be in the presence of Jesus that I would want to see Him before I saw my Baby. That is what scripture tells me anyway. So, I’m working on me and I’m allowing God to move me to the door of opportunities instead of crying at the door that is slammed shut. Or picture it this way…you hold on to something…it’s inside your doubled up fist…squeezed shut…God wants to give you something better, but he can’t put anything in your hand because your fist is closed up and you are holding on so tight to the “old” that he cannot give you the “new.”
I love you Babe,
God, help me grow up into what you want me to be…to do….I can’t…
God, help me go where you are sending….I can’t…
I’ll get there, but it will be you moving me. Help me! Please! I want to move forward…I want to let go of what was, so I can embrace what is. I want to move forward taking your memory with me. I want to. God will you move me, move me forward, please.
Journal entry Sept 7, 2006
Sometimes life is just plain difficult. This is a journal entry shortly after my husband passed. Perhaps you've lost a loved one and can relate.
Subject: The pearls
The cheerful little girl with bouncy golden curls was almost five. Waiting with her mother at the checkout stand, she saw them, a circle of glistening white pearls in a pink foil box “Oh mommy please, Mommy. Can I have them? Please, Mommy, please?”
Quickly the mother checked the back of the little foil box and then looked back into the pleading blue eyes of her little girl’s upturned face.
“A dollar ninety-five. That’s almost $2.00. If you really want them, I’ll think of some extra chores for you and in no time you can save enough money to buy them for yourself. Your birthday’s only a week away and you might get another crisp dollar bill from Grandma.”
As soon as Jenny got home, she emptied her penny bank and counted out 17 pennies. After dinner, she did more than her share of chores and she went to the neighbor and asked if she could pick dandelions for ten cents. On her birthday, Grandma did give her another new dollar bill and at last she had enough money to buy the necklace.
Jenny loved her pearls. They made her feel dressed up and grown up. She wore them everywhere, Sunday school, kindergarten, even to bed. The only time she took them off was when she went swimming or had a bubble bath. Mother said if they got wet, they might turn her neck green. That’s because they are counterfeit. Keep that in mind.
Jenny had a very loving daddy and every night when she was ready for bed, he would stop whatever he was doing and come upstairs to read her a story.
One night as he finished the story, he asked Jenny, “Do you love me?”
“Oh yes, daddy. You know that I love you.”
“Then give me your pearls.”
“Oh, daddy, not my pearls. But you can have Princess, the white horse from my collection, the one with the pink tail. Remember, daddy? The one you gave me. She’s my very favorite.”
“That’s okay, Honey, daddy loves you. Good night.” And he brushed her cheek with a kiss.
About a week later, after the story time, Jenny’s daddy asked again, “Do you love me?”
“Daddy, you know I love you.”
“Give me your pearls.”
“Oh Daddy, not my pearls. But you can have my baby doll. The brand new one I got for my birthday. She is beautiful and you can have the yellow blanket that matches her sleeper.”
"That’s okay. Sleep well. God bless you, little one. Daddy loves you.“
And as always, he brushed her cheek with a gentle kiss.
A few nights later when her daddy came in, Jenny was sitting on her bed with her legs crossed Indian style.
As he came close, he noticed her chin was trembling and one silent tear rolled down her cheek. "What is it, Jenny? What’s the matter?”
Jenny didn’t say anything but lifted her little hand up to her daddy. And when she opened it, there was her little pearl necklace. With a little quiver, she finally said, “Here, daddy; this is for you.”
With tears gathering in his own eyes, Jenny’s daddy reached out with one hand to take the dime store necklace, and with the other hand he reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue velvet case with a strand of genuine pearls and gave them to Jenny.
He had them all the time. He was just waiting for her to give up the dime-store stuff so he could give her the genuine treasure. No more counterfeit.
So it is, with our Heavenly Father. He is waiting for us to give up the cheap things in our lives so that he can give us beautiful treasures. Poor little Jenny was afraid she would lose out by giving up something that she was familiar with. The fear of letting go kept her from getting the real blessing from her daddy.
Isn’t God good? Are you holding onto things that God wants you to let go of so he can bless you with his own presence and something far greater than what you are refusing to let go of.
Are you holding on to harmful or unnecessary partners, relationships, habits and activities, beliefs that you have come so attached to that it seems impossible to let go? Sometimes it is so hard to see what is in the other hand but do believe this one thing.
God will never take away something without giving you something of far greater value and much better in its place.
Will you trust him?
I want to…Help me Lord.
Charles Swindoll spoke on Revelation and was teaching on the Church of Philadelphia. He stated that there is a world of opportunity out there. I know that is true. I believe it. But my heart hurts so badly. He stated that too often, we sit in front of a closed door, crying for what should have been, mourning our dream gone sour, or a dream that has dried up and blown into the wind, for so long that we fail to get in on the opportunities in front of us because we are mourning at the closed door. God has a plan and usually the closed door is the means by which he is trying to bring us to himself. He wants to give us the blessing, but we can’t receive it because we are sitting at the closed door rather than looking in anticipation at the door of opportunities. I am guilty as charged God. I admit it. I have been sitting here crying and mourning my husband’s absence. I miss him so terribly. I feel like I have a heavy weight attached to my heart and it isn’t getting any better; what’s left of my heart anyway. I think the stick of dynamite that went off, just blew my heart to bits. There is very little still intact. Only enough to keep blood pumping through my veins for physical life. The rest is lying down inside my gut, bleeding profusely. My life’s blood dripping from the part that is still attached…Will the pain ever end? Death? I’m sad that this thought even enters my mind. Of course it is only a thought, but I get how Satan interjects that thought and then people go through with it, just to ease the pain.
Here is the picture God gave me in my mind’s eye. I remember watching a documentary, or a movie where someone is locked up in prison. The metal door closing, sliding shut, and you can hear it lock into place as it slams shut…an awful sound. That is the sound I hear. The difference is that this door is solid metal…there are no bars…and it is slammed shut….then silence. You, Babe, are on one side of the door, and I’m on the other. We are so close, but so far away and I can’t reach you. I know you are there, but I can’t touch you, see you, feel you….It is like that veil we are told about…where we can only see on this side of the veil, and we will have to wait to see what is on the other side…but right now…even though the metal door is thick, it seems so thin, because I know you are there, just on the other side…but at the same time, so thick, because I can’t touch it, see through it, or feel your presence here. God help me! I miss him…will the pain ever go away?
I have already admitted my selfishness. Seems like there is always a new reservoir of selfishness sitting in the bottom of my heart waiting to direct my path away from where I should be or what I should be focused on. I admit that I have been selfish because I have been longing to go home to be with my Baby. I long for that more than I long for going home to be with Jesus. And yet I know that if I were to go home tonight, I would be more thrilled to be in the presence of Jesus that I would want to see Him before I saw my Baby. That is what scripture tells me anyway. So, I’m working on me and I’m allowing God to move me to the door of opportunities instead of crying at the door that is slammed shut. Or picture it this way…you hold on to something…it’s inside your doubled up fist…squeezed shut…God wants to give you something better, but he can’t put anything in your hand because your fist is closed up and you are holding on so tight to the “old” that he cannot give you the “new.”
I love you Babe,
God, help me grow up into what you want me to be…to do….I can’t…
God, help me go where you are sending….I can’t…
I’ll get there, but it will be you moving me. Help me! Please! I want to move forward…I want to let go of what was, so I can embrace what is. I want to move forward taking your memory with me. I want to. God will you move me, move me forward, please.
Journal entry Sept 7, 2006
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