Orchestration of Time

It’s not selfish of me at all to want to be in charge of my time. It is something we are all given in the same doses yet how we choose to use it is not completely our own. Right now I sit at a computer with the back round of boys happily playing. I think this is my time, yet the reality is I have snuck away, for the moment and all the boys are unaware of me slipping away. They have busied themselves without me which is a slow progression as they get older. I am frustrated today as I try to make the best of the moments I have to myself when in reality when the mother of five kids, all home right now, I am pulled in many directions without regard for my time. It’s the nemesis of being a mother.

Being home with young children is a balancing act of freedom to just be. I just want to be left alone without being bombarded with the questions. That does not happen as I want my children to ask questions and I have conditioned them that it’s okay, yet my thoughts are interrupted all day long without the considerations of my time. Sometimes time is just the thought being completed in my head, but those are interrupted. Just now as I type I had to stop to look at a stuffed dog with a makeshift leash. A proud seven year old is taking his puppy for a walk and he’s proud of his leash he made. Now I have bow-wow sounds and silly voices of dog and owner walking through the “park” which is the hallway several feet from me.

I sat in on a meeting last night at church. One of the ladies shared how she has taken the first chapter of Genesis to begin to understand the value of her time, ordering her time, and taking time to be creative in this next season of her life. Aside from the scripture I loved one of the things she said. Something like this…If God, the creator of Heaven and Earth could orchestrate His days then what better model to follow. I have read Genesis One several times in my life. Never looking so much as how God used His time, but more the focus of day one, day two and so on. Do you ever feel like some parts were left out? Like did any of the angels interrupt God, tap Him on the shoulder, and say “before you start that could I tell you something, ask you a question, can you take me potty?” Did God just stand there in the darkness of the world and say “Let there be light.” Did the angles know by the expressions on His face, the intensity of the moment, that He was about to create the world, therefore they took a step back and realized this would not be a good time to interrupt?

When I read about the earth’s beginnings and what God did on each day I realize that He could orchestrate everything so perfectly because He is and will always be the one true God. He knew exactly what precise moment was the best timing for there to be light and darkness, land and water, animals and humans. I can’t even get it right to know if now or later is a better time to dust. I don’t always rally the troops, put everyone in a corner and then have my perfectly orchestrated time to create, be orderly, and then stand back and say “wow, a job well done”.

What God did do was set aside days for a specific task. That is a good idea, and even more so because it comes from God. At the end of each day’s work on creation God took a step back and “God saw that it was good”. Can I do that with my time each day as I plug along in the roles and hats I wear? Looking over the day and see that it is good? One of the things that I have been doing for years is take inventory at the end of the day of what I have done. For me, it’s not so much the creating of a list and checking things off that list, but it’s more making that list at the end of the day and realizing how I have spent my time and what that looks like. It gives me pleasure in my own little way to say…good job Elizabeth your time was used well today. Then there are days when I look at the page of nothing I can write and I realize that I have allowed the standards of the world to dictate what is considered a job well done. A long day playing at the park with the kids, does that make it on the list at the end of the day? Sitting with a friend and laughing for hours over coffee that went cold, does that make it on the list? Or does the list have things like laundry-check, dusting-check, post office-check, and grocery store-check. What does your list look like? How do you orchestrate your time? What adds value to each day that is important to you, not by the world’s standards?

I can orchestrate a wonderful day, only to be interrupted by the needs of my family, a phone call, email, face book, and a book that I want to read one more chapter of, and life goes on. Life happens every day, and perhaps it’s not played out in the way we would desire, but if you are meeting the needs of others, serving others and living out a life to be like Jesus I think God will be smiling and saying it was good. An orchestra has a leader called the conductor. In the same way I conduct around my home it’s a joy to know that God is conducting my life each day. Some days saying Elizabeth you need to practice more and play that piece over and other days saying wow that was terrific. Thanks Lord Jesus for today. One day at a time, one moment, and not always my own but always YOURS!!!

To be like my mother

This morning Elliot came into the kitchen with a HUGE thank you for doing his mountain of laundry. If he was not sleeping in his bed last night I would have put the fresh sheets on his bed too. As we sat around the kitchen counter talking about the service of a mother I embraced how God has made me as a mother.

I shared with Elliot and David how my mother served me in my adult years and I now embrace the treasures now past along to me. My mother would allow me the freedom to just rest when in her home. She would jump in and care for the kids, jump in and do our laundry, prepare the meals, and free me up to do some things that maybe I never had time to do while being full time mommy. When she came to my home she would cook up a storm and fill my freezer, iron clothes that hung in my closet wrinkled, and do my mounds of laundry...even clean the bathrooms.

One weekend she came for a visit and I had a huge basket of ironing on my dryer. She jumped in and ironed it all. A couple months later she was coming for a visit and that basket was full once again and you know what, she did it all again. Who says that we have to stop serving our children once they grow up and are on their own? Do we take this black and white approach to parenting our adult children. Your are on your own now so figure it all out.

I was shown great love and service to my heart and soul when my mother stepped into my house. Some of my friends have complained over how their mother's come into their homes and "take over" and "control". My mother can come over and take over and control any time she wants and I am so blessed that my son sees this as a wonderful gift of service to him. Now as for the control part...hmmmm...should I toss some of these jeans with more holes than swiss cheese. Five years ago that would have been my choice. No longer.

My mother has not been so much in my life these past years yet even with the distance of time and geography I have learned some important things about mothering even into a child's adult years. It's a blessing to serve my children, and a gift that they would allow me. An even greater blessing to have had a mother to not just show me, but model serving in the ways that she did. Thanks Mom!!!

Abandonment

I posted this in Fall 2008. This particular post is linked to the Women of Faith blog and has been from last fall. It has only been in the last few weeks that I discovered so many were finding this post from the Women of Faith sight. I have received countless emails of the beginning of forgiveness and healing in the lives of many women who have read this. For that reason I am posting this again.



I was four years old when he left our home with a lot of boxes. Loaded his truck and drove away. I sat on the edge of the windowsill crying. I don’t really know why, but there was something different on that day. My younger sister and I also got the chicken pox on that day. The day my dad walked out the door forever. Abandonment.

Along with my sisters we stood before the judge. I was eleven years old. A decision was made that day. My mother handed us over to the state’s care. She had a choice to stay with the abusive step father or put her children into the states care. That day the judge read the report and all of our girls walked single file into a small room. Never again would I go home with my mom.
Abandonment.

My life was in shambles. I did not know from one day to the next how I could get up in the morning, be a good mother, make business decisions and have it all together. I just could do no more. I drove into my driveway. A strange car parked out front. A man met me at the walk and asked if I was Elizabeth. I asked who he was. He served me papers, divorce papers.
Abandonment.

I sat in a restaurant with my second set of parents. At this time my life was still spinning out of control, and bad decisions being made by me. And then I hear these words. “If you don’t give this baby up for adoption, you are no longer part of the fellowship of this family”.
Abandonment.

This past weekend I heard a speaker at a women’s conference talk about being abandoned. She spoke about the emotions behind being abandoned. She spoke about the shame, the guilt, and the feeling of never being wanted. I know how I felt in each of those situations. She captured every emotion I have ever felt. I look at this list of people leaving my life and try to understand why so many people have left me.

I know the feeling of shame and never speaking to anyone about the reasons. Embarrassed at the blame I placed and owned on myself. The feeling of me having no value to the important people in my life, thus them always leaving me.

It has been through many years of truly trusting in God. I know that He will never leave nor forsake me. I have rested on Lamentations 3 for many years.

Lamentations 3: 22-26
Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed, because His compassion's fail not. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. “The Lord is my portion, says my soul”, Therefore I have hope in Him. The Lord is good to those who wait for Him. To the soul who seeks Him. It is good that one should hope and wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.

I have rested my heart on these verses for so many years. I have faltered on many levels and believed I was so worthless for many years of my life. I could smile, and cover the pain, often with a cute handbag matching shoes, a little charm, and some wit, but at the end of the day, alone with my thoughts the pain of being abandoned over and over haunted me. I faced shame, guilt and a true sense of nothingness. I only really prayed that God would protect my children and their hearts from having such a worthless mother.

I was reminded of all those emotions that once strangled my heart this past weekend. Thinking that if all these people have left me, then how could God possibly want or ever stay with me. And then, those many years ago, His beautiful words came across my vision. Untangled those ropes that tried to strangle my hope and set me free to live my life of complete acceptance of Him. My heart was no longer bitter, ashamed, and guilt ridden. I could rest my soul in His loving care, His commitment to never leave me.

I wanted to share this for those who may read this and be bound by the loss of those who have left you. There is an amazing God who is going to carry you. I have a Father who carries my heart in the palm of His hand. He is there always when others walk away. Blessings!!!

My Moment at the Well

Many years ago my heart was aching over the damage in heart. I read the story of the Woman at the Well and it so touched my heart that I had to write must it must have been like to be her, what broken parts of my own life might think or feel.

My Moment at the Well by Elizabeth Traub

I have always known in my heart that what I have done, and continue to do is wrong. I have so little value of myself. I can look into a broken piece of glass and realize that the reflection I see is also broken. Broken with little hope of any repair. Yet in my own heart and in my soul I can not make change. Any hope for me has long since dried up. There are no miracles waiting for me. There are no miracles for a Samaritan woman who has chosen the company of many men.

This morning is like many. Although I have bathed, there will be no cleansing for what I have done. I am a woman, who is known for performing services in the darkness of night. I know my position, and although it is not what I had hoped for, in my life, it is who I am.. My position in this community affects every element of who I am. Even on this hazy morning I must alter the timing of my chores, as not to be met with the ridicule of the other Samaritan women. They know not the pain in my heart which has brought on my social position. They only know that I have distracted many of their own husbands.

This morning I go to the well of Jacob. I go during this hour, with hopes of meeting no one. Even in early daylight, the darkness in my heart can not withstand any light. Each day I have set out always in the sixth hour and I meet no one. Only today there is someone. My heart begins to beat at a faster pace. Only in my own sin and darkness, I fear this person will know me and I will be called upon for dialogue.

It is a man. He has the look of a Jew, although my eyes are lowered as not to make any kind of contact with him. He sits at the well’s edge; making it very difficult to avoid him. As I approach the well, I can see by his face, his clothes, and his color that he is a Jew. And yet he makes no movement away from the well. Can’t he see that I have come to draw water from the well. I have been taught that Jews and Samaritans have no dealings. And yet this man, this Jew only watches as I approach.

As I begin to dip my bucket the Jew speaks. “Give me a drink.” I am fearful by the calmness in this man’s voice. It is like no other man’s voice. Does he not know who I am? Does he not know my position in this community? “How is it that you, being a Jew, ask me for a drink, since I am a Samaritan woman?” I wanted to say, since I am the local Samaritan harlot. Yet the soft look from his eyes does not indicate he can see the darkness in my heart. This man answers me. “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is who says to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked Him, and He would have given you living water.” I can’t help but look in all directions from the well. Who is this man who speaks of living water? This well has been producing clean water since our father Jacob, yet something seems different about the water he speaks of.

“Sir you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep; where then do You get living water?” This man, this Jew looks down into the well. And then he looks into my eyes, into my heart, and into my soul. No man has ever done this before. And he speaks, “Everyone who drinks of this water will thirst again: but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him shall never thirst; but the water that I will give him will become in him a well of water springing up to eternal life.” Eternal Life. What does this mean? I lack understanding, yet my heart is feeling something. What is this Jew offering me? What am I feeling? I have only known darkness, heaviness, and yet this man is offering me something I have not known. The well can quench the thirst in my mouth, but what well can quench the thirst in my heart and in my soul?

I want so much to have what He has offered. Yet I am not worthy of asking for anything. And asking a man, whom I have been forbidden to speak with. He has spoken to me with such honor and respect. He must not know who I am. “Sir, give me this water so I will not be thirsty.” He speaks again. “Go, call your husband and come here.” How do I answer? For, in feeling for the first time honor and respect, he has now asked me to bring a husband. I have had many. And who I am with is not my husband. If I collect my bucket now, and leave, I can leave knowing for a moment in my life I felt a sense of worth. He can not know who I am. And yet I trust Him. I can see in His eyes, that this man is different. I can see in his lack of wanting to touch me. There is this glimpse of something so unfamiliar to me, unfamiliar to a local prostitute. Can I trust what my heart is feeling? I have had no other sense of hope or even trust.

“Sir, I have no husband” I have lowered my head, knowing at this very moment I must tell him who he speaks to, and advise him to move on before he is seen with me. Before the words roll from my tongue, he speaks. “You have well said, ‘I have no husband’; for you have had five husbands, and the one whom you now have is not your husband; this you have said truly.” Who can this man be, a prophet? A prophet who knows this much of me and still sits at the edge of the well? The Messiah? The one who my father’s have spoken of? Could this man be him?

“Sir, I perceive that you are a prophet” What emptiness I have had has been filled. What darkness I have lived in can be changed. Who is this man, who has come at this early hour for rest? This man who can look on my life without shame is Him. “Samaritan woman, I who speak to you, is the Messiah. But an hour is coming, and now is, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and in truth; for such people the Father seeks to be his worshipers.” Have I just met the spirit? Have I just been delivered the truth? If spirit and truth can sit beside me, at this well, and look on my heart and soul without shame and disgrace, then I have truly met my Savior.

Only moments before coming to this well I only new darkness. I knew of nothing or no one who could cleanse such darkness from my heart and soul. And in one moment and one meeting I have been cleansed by this man they call Jesus . In a very precious moment the depth of my well has been filled.

Dear Messiah, I slipped away, leaving my watering pot. It was a watering pot that has been filled with the water from the wells of this world. My heart has been an empty and broken pot. You have come along and repaired the brokenness within me and filled me with an Eternal Spring of Living water. I go to the town, in the light of day. Fearing no more, what the townspeople may think of me. I know that you are real in my heart. I will draw my strength from you. I will no longer walk the path to the wells of this world.

Thank you Messiah, for not fearing the darkness in my life. Thank you Messiah, for knowing that I was worthy of your time. Worthy to be given new life. My story does not end here. It is only the beginning.

Writing about another life I once had...

It is very hard to bring my past into this blog. It's a huge part of my life I can't be real about and yet it's that part of my life that shaped and molded me. It's that part of my life. the better part of 17 years, that God found favor and blesses me today. I can not be open with my heart and I am a very open person.

Last summer I was made aware that my ex husband's wife reads my blog. I don't fault her for that at all. It's a public blog to those who find me. She communicated with one of my kids that I would be dealt with if I did not take something down that I had written. I referred to a part of my "past", not mentioning names, not mentioning dates on the calendar. That specific "past" could have been anyone yet she chose to decide it was my ex and she was wrong it was not. I was careful not to mention names or dates, but it was the event that God had worked in my life. I did not take down the post.

Life happens to us. We all have pasts that have affected us. I write not thinking that an ex's wife will be reading. I often write as God has pressed on my heart something that could benefit another and bring that one person into a better understanding of God's grace, mercy, and amazingness.

I spoke at our ladies event last winter and spoke on a life of hurt and guess what, part of that time in my life was my first marriage. Unfortunately to many of us can write on that one topic. In that first marriage we were both not so nice people. Goodness if we were nice people we'd most likely still be married. In sharing that time of pain in my life I have been blessed to come alongside and encourage others in their walk with Jesus. I have been able to help others put the pieces of a broken marriage together with the hope of staying married. My intentions were never to be in a really hurtful marriage. Nor to bring a shadow onto the character of another. Marriage's don't break down because of one person it takes two.

I am sharing this today because my son listened to the CD of me sharing my story and truly it's a story of God's interventions into my heart. He said that people need to hear this story. And yet, do I pause because one person may not want to know the past of an ex-wife. I don't know the person I was married to almost ten years ago. Perhaps he is prince charming, walking closely with God, and loving another woman like he could never love me. All very good things, but as my heart has prayed this past week I am going to share some things that I have learned and grown from. Will it reference my first marriage? Most likely. Will it be more of my part and how God has shown me how to love and live in a healthy marriage today? I will do my best.

There are many marriages on the edge of separation and divorce. I wish I had someone to hold my hand and help me along, but I did not have that because I posed to have a perfect marriage in public. Behind closed doors that first marriage was very different and if you are hurting in a marriage I want to encourage and come alongside to offer hope that comes with Jesus taking over.

So, if you are reading this and are offended by some of my personal experiences, please know that I do my best to not use names, dates and times and not every bad thing is my past was a result of my ex. My failed marriage is not a result of what he did or did not do. It's about how I failed to know how to handle myself in situations that required me to depend on God. So as I write about another life I once had I pray that those who read will be encouraged.

Fly fly away....

This visit with my oldest has been like no other. Home for his longest stay in three years. Conversations of this being his last real "living" at home. For the last three years it's been a week or two between school, or traveling with a music group. This year he came home, what was to be for four very short months. He came home a young man. No longer this gangly kid wondering how to pass the days of summer. He got a job, start working in a church, teaching, leading worship and home long enough to take a time out to wrestle with his brothers. On his days off he would take all three boys on a day long hike, train ride, run around the city or a local park. He kept in touch, and showed up for dinner parties. Biking has been his means of transportation and what a blessing to think that he would land home for four months. Knowing that this is really the last stop home and from this time after only to be a visitor.

Today he called on his way to a highschool retreat. He's gone for three days helping out. He said he has bad news and good news. A church in Florida would like to hire him and get him in out there ASAP. He called to ask if I would look on his computer to check his schedule of the best day to flight out. Barely anytime to have a going away party. The talk around the table has been that this might be the last time he is home for the next two years if he is working in Florida and going to school full time. I did not get the bad news and asked him what that was. He said that his time home is being cut short. Fly, fly away young man. A mother's heart will always yearn for her children to be close, but never can I step in the way of God's plans for Elliot.

I am blessed that God is going to use his life to teach, challenge, and grow him more in ways that only He knows. It's going to be a whilrwind this next week as we get him packed, going away party and onto a plane. Again I say fly fly away. (On a completely different subject Emerson is right beside me building this huge Lego airplane. If it was built I would take a picture just to add to this post.

The Best DAD of all time!!

I have issues with dads in my life. I have very big hurtful awful issues. One specific things that bothers me and I do try to understand is that when a person has had issues with their earthly fathers and thus lose ground and understanding of our Heavenly Father because of the issues with their earthly father. I am not so sensitive in this area and often listen only, with the inability to offer hope. I think it’s a victim mentality which allows an excuse to stray, stumble, and gives little credit to the relationship, the healing, the love and the compassion God has for our lives. I want to jump out of my skin and say something like….”that is your issue with your dad and for that reason you are robbing yourself of a wonderful relationship with the Father of our hearts?”

I was chatting the other day with a young woman who is missing out on the relationship she can have with our Heavenly Father because she relates Him to her relationship with the severe issues with her dad. Did I mention I have issues? I am going to lay some of these issues out right now.

Dad number one is the one who contributed the DNA. He was a ladies man. As a matter of fact my mother was his second of his six or seven marriages. He dropped in and out of my life twice between the ages of 4-23. He left my mom when I was two years old. One can only hope he was a nice person and had agenda’s that prevented him from seeing me. That is the kind of story a little girls writes in her mind, only to realize later he just did not want to be bothered. That has created some issues over my lifetime.

Dad number two is the step dad. Let me see, emotional, sexual, and physical abuse are all he will have to deal with when he faces God. I was told how ugly and stupid I was on a regular basis. “Hey stupid come here”. One night a bag of snacks spilled all over the kitchen floor. I was taken out of bed from a deep sleep and asked to clean it up. I was not handed a broom or dustpan. I was told to eat every last piece. It was those orange cheetos things. To this day I can not stand the sight of those things. If that was all that ever happened I might not have so many issues, but if you want to know more just ask. That period in my life also created issues on top of the existing issues.

Dad number three is the semi-adoptive dad. I must give him much respect. He is a very Godly man. He has spent the better part of his life working hard and serving in areas that truly have grown people into God’s kingdom. He did his best to do what he could with me. But I had already come with so many issues. Did he intend to add to those issues I am sure the answer is no, but he did. Excusing me from the only loving family I had ever had because I would not play by his rules. Simply give the baby up for adoption or you will no longer be part of the family. I kept the baby and you can guess how that story went. I think this situation created the most confusing issues of all time in my life.

With the dads in my life coming and going and hurting my heart I think I have every right to look into the face of God and scream, yell, and spit if it were lady like. I have every right to relate to our Heavenly Father in ways that keep me from growing closer to Him. I think I have about every excuse in the book to keep me confused over Him in my life. Because the “rules” say its okay to view God in a dis-configured sense because of our earthly father’s failing us. As a matter of fact it would be so much easier if I just bask in this thing called victim because then I really don’t have to change my thinking so much, I don’t have to work at anything but self-pity and and and and…..!!!


I am, everyday of my life, reminded of:

Ephesians 4:31

“Get rid of all bitterness, rage, and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other just as God has forgiven you.”

Ephesians 5:1

“Be imitators of God, therefore as dearly loved children and live a life of love just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.”

God loves us so much as His “dearly loved children”. What purpose to stay deep in the hurts of past fathers in our lives? What harm to our souls and to our hearts to allow the sins of another to take up so much of you heart and be the excuse for being stuck, the excuse for not getting God in your life. Our earthly fathers are not on the field as our Heavenly Father and yet we put Him there as a place of dishonor.

2 Peter 1: 3,4

“His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature and escape the corruption in the world caused by evil desires.”

There are no disclaimers. I looked. Nothing that says if your earthly father has failed you, then I understand if you can not understand this passage of scripture or even Me, your Heavenly Father. He longs for a relationship with each one of us. Not hindered by the hurts of our past, the hurts of our fathers.

I thought long and hard about this post and realized that my post Father’s Day post is something I wanted to share as a hope for next year’s Father’s Day. We have a Father who has never failed us, never given up on us, given us away, hurt or harmed us. Everyday I am so thankful for my Heavenly Father. In a strange way the failures and hurts of my earthly fathers has been a tremendous blessing in my life. My struggles and issues have given me a deeper and passionate love for the Father who I embrace every day. There are no distractions of the issues created in my life due to the lack of fathering I had, but instead it’s been the cause for great healing, deeper yearning and a real love for my Heavenly Father.

My Dear Heavenly Father,

I thank you for the issues in my life created by the fathers who came along in my life. I do not know their hearts, their intentions or if I was ever truly loved, but this I do know. My heart is not distracted by these issues. I want to run into your arms, hold on, and feel your grasp which pulls me along. I pray for those who are stuck, captured as the victim who is comfortable with being uncomfortable because it’s all they know. Let there be a yearning to know you as the greatest Dad in the world. You are not my number one, two or three dad in my life. You are my only DAD!!!!! LOVES YOU!!!