The Next 3 Feet

There’s a lot going on. I’ve been reeling from the messy/busyness of life lately.

I found myself making mental notes and trying to figure out a plan of action for the next few months. The only problem was it happened at 3:00am in the morning.

Finally after tossing and turning for awhile, I got up and jotted my thoughts down on a piece of paper. I managed to get about 4 hours of sleep…maybe 3, who knows? It was a rough night.

At 6am sitting in my quiet home, I realized I was not just trying to set goals and put everything in order during those wakeful hours. It was more like mulling over the what, where, when, ifs and everything that could happen and how I would handle it all. I thought I needed a plan ahead of time and wanted to be prepared.

Bob got up and I said, I can do a lot but I can’t do everything.

He said, “I really don’t know how you’re doing it all now. I couldn’t do what you’re doing. Let me pray for you.”

I was deeply humbled by his words. This man who has endured so much on his long and complicated medical journey, who has been on the receiving end of countless prayers was reaching in my direction to help me. But that’s nothing new. He often does that for me and others as well.

Bob gave me a gift. It was the gift of being seen, known and heard. He gave me permission to be human. It was something I needed that morning and a big weight seemed to drop from my shoulders as he prayed for me. Ahh…the grace of God.

My fretting through the night (over what may or may not happen in the future) was hindering the gift of grace I needed at that moment. Trying to receive God’s future grace doesn’t work. That gift doesn’t come early.

I think of my friend, Bonnie, who lost her husband recently. She told me that the only way she can make it through this difficult season is by just taking one small step at a time and not look at the big picture. In her words … “I am learning that one day or even one hour at a time is much more doable. It’s too hard to think very far ahead.”

Living in the moment. I know it’s the best way to get through any day. I don’t have to worry about the future because God is already there. I don’t need to have everything figured out. He already does and there will be grace waiting for me to meet every challenge. These are words I often share with others but needed to speak them to myself again that morning. I reminded myself of all the times grace met me during past challenges.

Then later that day, I went outside for a walk thinking it would help clear my mind of any leftover intrusive thoughts. As I started down my driveway, I remembered a quote that I heard recently:

“To a man on a mountain road by night a glimpse of the next 3 feet of road may matter more than a vision of the horizon.” C.S. Lewis

On my 45 minute walk, I focused only on the 3 feet in front of me. Keeping my mind fixed on the moment, not trying to focus too far ahead or think about anything beyond the present.

As I walked, I saw thin blades of green grass poking through the soil. I heard birds singing, children playing and I greeted neighbors with a friendly hello as they passed by.

When I got home, I walked through my yard and noticed that my crocuses were blooming. Their delicate, soft lilac colored petals whispered hope.

My tiny crocuses didn’t labor or spin. The passage from Matthew 6 :25-34 about worry came to mind. Just as my Heavenly Father takes care of my spring blooms, He will take care of me.

Peace returned with an assurance that I would have what I needed with each step I took that day and in the future. God’s grace met me as my attention shifted from all the messy stuff of life to what was happening right in front of me.

I don’t know exactly where I’m going. I can’t see the horizon but I know God is with me now and He’s in the future ready to help me handle the next 3 feet when I get there. His gift of grace is waiting for me. It will be right on time.

God’s grace in the next 3 feet. It’s all I need and it’s always enough.

Blessings,

Nancy

Hope is Rising

I’m waiting for my crocuses to bloom. It should be any day now. They are the first bloomers in my yard. I can always depend on them to make their appearance by the middle of March. Spring holds so much hope.

Saturday was a glorious day. Knowing we were nearing the end of the cold season, hope started rising up in me.

I walked outdoors. My sun kissed cheek lifted toward the sky. My eyes focused on the blue sky around the sun and I inhaled deeply finally breathing out a big sigh of relief. This winter-weary soul was ready to enjoy the 58 degree weather even if it was just for one day. The forecast revealed that It would turn cold again with snow flurries within 48 hours. I wasn’t going to let the day end without enjoying it.

I traded my walk on the treadmill for a nature walk and I was almost giddy with joy with each step that I took.

The trees are still bare, small piles of snow still litter the landscape but I could see grass and hear birds singing and that was enough to make me hopeful.

Even though not much is blooming or growing yet, I know that there’s something happening beneath the earth. In that darkness, bulbs are sprouting and getting ready to push their way through the ground. Acorns are turning into oak trees. Perennials are being nourished in the dark wet ground as their roots grow deeper. Preparations for the growing season are happening in places that we can’t see.

What appears to be dead is only resting, waiting and gaining more strength. Soon flowers will bloom. The brown grass will turn green. New birth; new growth will come again.

I think that’s why I love spring so much. It holds so much promise after a long winter.

Its similar to our Spiritual life after we go through a winter of the soul. It happens to all of us, in one way or another, in this broken world.

In the harshest of times when we’re in the wildernesses of a life experience, we can always be assured, though it’s dark and nothing seems to be growing, something is always happening.

In those dark places, just beneath the surface, that you and I cannot see, there is growth occurring and someday at just the right time it will sprout and we will notice it. Where there was once sadness, joy will return like a little seed growing in our soul. We may notice that we have more wisdom, courage, less fear, more faith, less negativism, more hope, less selfishness, more compassion … we are blooming in ways that couldn’t happen without the winter.

If we’ve prepared, cultivated, grown, bloomed, watered and nurtured the new growth, we may be surprised when the next winter of our soul appears. We may even ask the question, “How can something so cold and harsh happen again?”

Remembering that gardens know how to withstand harsh winters and that life is still growing under the snow is a helpful reminder that we too will survive another soul winter.

We’re always growing, becoming better but winter still comes to those flourishing places that we tended to in the past. Maybe lessons learned are growing deeper, roots are taking stronger hold, making us sturdier and stronger in our faith. We don’t see what is happening beneath the surface but something good is always happening in the winter.

Whatever the outcome, winter has its purpose and spring with all its new growth and flourishing always comes again.

Blessings,

Nancy

What I know

One of my writing instructors, from long ago, often quoted Mark Twain. She’d say, “Write what you know.”

There’s wisdom in that. We really can’t write what we don’t already know. Even fantasy and fiction draws from our own life experiences.

I’ve been at a loss for words lately. I know things. I have stories to share but they’re obstructed.

Is there a creative roto-router? You know…something I can use to loosen up and smooth out this damed up, constricted pathway that hinders my words?

Write what you know…

All I know is what is happening within the four walls of my home.

It’s been a difficult 6 months here. If you’ve been reading my blog, especially pre 2018 and before I took a 4 year hiatus from this community, you know about the medical journey my husband, Bob, has been on and my role as his caregiver.

The last month has presented some new challenges for us. One particular hard day in December, Bob sat on the sofa struggling to breathe. I walked over to reposition him and I tripped over his oxygen tubing. He’s never needed oxygen before so this is a new fixture in our home. My foot caught the tube and before I knew it I was flying across our living room and landed on both of my knees. The hardwood flooring didn’t cushion the blow.

I sat there and wept, criticizing myself for being so careless. Then Bob wept. We were both exhausted. Thankfully I didn’t break anything and when I managed to get up, I grabbed my Bible and sobbed, we need to pray, Bob.

As I walked toward him a 3×5 card fell out of my bible. On it were the words:

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. Isaiah 41:10

It’s a familiar verse that has helped Bob and me through some tough spots over the past 6 years

I hadn’t read it recently but it was just what I needed…what we both needed.

Bob said, “That’s God. He’s letting us know that we’re not alone.”

Two days later we received a card from my daughter-in-law’s aunt. We’ve only met her once but she sent cards to us after Bob’s bone marrow transplant and again after his open heart surgeries.

This one was precious. She wrote a lovely hand written note saying she was thinking about both of us and that our journey helped her and her husband stay positive during his journey through cancer. Sadly, he passed away last year.

At the end of her note she shared her favorite verse that she clung to and recited throughout the day to stay calm and hopeful during the most difficult days of her husband’s battle. It was the same verse that fell out of my Bible … Isaiah 41:10.

So this is what I know. God is listening to our prayers. He’s still with us in this struggle and telling us not to be afraid.

Blessings,

Nancy

Before The Sun Goes Down

Saturday was World Kindness Day. It’s celebrated on November 13 every year to educate people about the importance of being kind to one another, yourself and to the world. It’s great to be reminded of the importance of spreading kindness but what a difference it would make if we put it into practice every day. I like the lyrics to the song Put a Little Love in your Heart:

Think of your fellow man

Lend him a helping hand

Put a little love in your heart

You see it’s getting late

Oh, please don’t hesitate

Put a little love in your heart

And the world will be a better place

For you and me

You just wait and see

Another day goes by still the children cry

Put little love in your heart

If you want the world to know

We won’t let hatred grow

Put a little love in your heart

Take a good look around

And if you’re looking down

Put a little love in your heart

Hope when you decide

Kindness will be your guide

Put a little love in your heart

(Put A Little Love In Your Heart: Songwriters: Jackie De Shannon/ Jimmy Holiday / Randy Myers)

Click on the video below of a few of my sunset photos, put your sound up to hear a sample of the song I referenced (by Al Green and Annie Lennox) and then scroll to the end of my post:

God is love. 1 John 4:8

Not just on World Kindness Day, but before the sun goes down every day let’s think of ways to spread love through acts of kindness and even to those we may feel don’t deserve it. Being kind will do their hearts good and in a mysterious way bless us as well. When others are a recipient of a kind act, it usually spurs them on to do the same for someone else. Let’s start a chain reaction and put a little love in our hearts today and remember to be kind daily.

Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God. Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love. 1 John 4: 7-8

Blessings,

Nancy

Lament: The Doorway to Blessing

Me:  God, I’m angry.  I need help dealing with this.  

God:  You’re not really angry.

Me:  What? You are all knowing.  You see me, know the circumstances I’m facing and you’re telling me I’m not angry?

God: You don’t have to hide your feelings from me.  I want you to be vulnerable and authentic.  

Me:  Huh?  I am being vulnerable.   

God: Today you finally stopped carrying this alone and brought it to me for help.

Me:  Yes, I need help with this anger.

God: So why are you angry?

Me:  You know how I’ve been hurt in that relationship. There’s so much that I don’t understand and after all these years of friendship to be treated like an enemy is hurtful and makes me sad. I tried to reach out to talk but she shut the door on all communication.

God:  Ah, so you’re hurt and sad?  Have you read Psalm 55: 12-14?

If an enemy were insulting me, I could endure it; if a foe were raising himself against me, I could hide from him. But it is you, a man like myself, my companion, my close friend, with whom I once enjoyed sweet fellowship as we walked with the throng at the house of God. Psalm 55: 12-14

Me:  Tears flow …

God:  My door is always open to you. Read Matthew 5: 3-4 and mediate on those verses for awhile.

I come before the Lord empty.

Spiritually I’m destitute.  I’m not strong enough in my own strength to handle this. I need Him. I open my bible to Matthew 5: 3-4:

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

There’s no room for anger, unforgiveness or pride, not even a little wiggle room.  

I humble myself, I’m truthful about who I am and what I’m feeling.

Lacking what I need, I open my hands. I’m ready to receive.

This is my vulnerable place.

My mind flashes back to when I first came to Jesus years ago. I was finally truthful with Him about who I was.  That was the door to salvation.  

He swung open the door and welcomed me in and here in this present moment He does the same.

That vulnerability that brings me to God comes through what the Bible refers to as lament.

Lament means: “To express sorrow, regret, or unhappiness about something.” Or: “A passionate expression of grief or sorrow.”

Jesus’ first sermon goes counter culturally to what our world says we need in order to be fulfilled and lamenting seems weak.

But God shows me, in the first beatitude, that being poor in spirit brings me blessing and that His kingdom is mine.  

I read it again: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven”. Matthew 5:3

That’s present tense.  That means right here; right now.  

Honest lament and being truthful with God is the doorway into His presence and that doorway leads to His kingdom … on earth as it is in Heaven.

I share my hurt, sorrow, confusion, grief and I am transported above this painful circumstance.  

I’m free to grieve.  I’m free to be vulnerable.  It’s ok to not be ok when I’m in His presence.  

I mourn my loss.  I read Matthew 5:4 again. “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted”.

I am comforted, at peace and spiritually full. This is what it means to be blessed.

An Anchor in the Storm

We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, where Jesus, who went before us, has entered on our behalf. Hebrews 6:19

Since my husband, Bob, became critically ill 6 years ago, I’ve been referred to as his anchor. Mostly by his medical care teams and by his friends whom he confides in about what direction my role has taken in our marriage.

Being a caregiver to a spouse who has been hospitalized at least 12 times in 6 years with many of them being 1-4 week hospital stays has been daunting.  

At the beginning of this journey, I knew that the only way that I was going to be able to fulfill my calling as Bob’s caregiver was to make sure that I took care of myself as well.

That becomes difficult when you feel the pressure to be the anchor of the family. The one who keeps the ship (so to speak) stable, secure, supported and free from floating erratically in the wind of the storm, keeping it in our safe harbor protected from invaders … or in our case, pathogens that can infiltrate the weak and vulnerable one on board.  

The anchor is lifted when we have to sail to another medical procedure, treatment or check up and anchor in that harbor until it’s time to return to the safety of our home. Anchor down. Our life once again lived in our isolated stable environment. It takes its toll at times to be the support in turbulent times.

God knew long before I knew that this was going to be a difficult storm.  One that would not be over quickly or easily and that Bob would be on deaths doorstep several times and I would be called upon to buoy him up and hold our ship steady. Miraculously his life has been spared time and time again and most recently when a palliative care/hospice physician released him from his care with the words, “Not time yet.” God knew and His plan prevails. How grateful I am to still have Bob here with me.

At the outset of his illness I knew that part of taking care of myself was remembering that I wasn’t capable, in my own strength, to be an anchor.  It was too heavy for me. When I tried, when I became overwhelmed, I needed someone to help lighten the load. God provided everything that I needed in Jesus and through the harshness of the forces coming against us He became enough.  He is still enough …

  • Enough to plant a deep faith in me
  • To show me daily what I need to add or subtract from my life to keep me in His peace
  • To supply the desire and strength to walk 2-3 miles most days to keep my body and mind healthy
  • To provide me with good nutritional choices to make balanced meals
  • To bring me resources to help keep my mind and emotions healthy
  • To give me gifts and hobbies to use and enjoy
  • To move in the hearts of family and friends to call or text me when I need encouragement
  • To show me who I can share my deepest thoughts with
  • To have good listeners available when I need to talk
  • To lead me to friends who won’t judge my words or emotions
  • To keep me from sharing too much so I don’t become a burden
  • To encourage me to share my story to help someone else
  • To reveal to me the good in the hard
  • To fill me with joy and all the other fruits of the Spirit

Enough, enough, enough…He is always enough.

And definitely enough to help me take on this assignment with grace for such a time as this. I feel deep in my soul that this is my best work. A deeply spiritual work.  A job here on earth with remarkable meaning and purpose.  A holy work. This job of taking care of someone who relies on me as I rely on God is truly holy work.  I have to be mindful of this daily and to practice the presence of my Lord and talk to him throughout the day and not just during my designated prayer times.  He is the anchor of hope and the anchor of storms.  

That’s not to say Bob doesn’t rely on God.  He does.  I could never take that number one place in his life. Nor would he want me to. Bob has a solid faith, his soul is healthy and strong but his body is weak. Our anchor, our God, our all in all, is the one anchoring our lives in this storm.

Blessings,

Nancy 

Beauty for Ashes

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. James 1:17

It was a few months into the global pandemic and her husband left her for another woman. With a wounded heart and two young children holding onto each of her hands, she tried to muster up the strength to move forward.

Then came her cancer diagnosis. Suddenly the path ahead became a mountain to scale.

It was as if she was traveling through an ash heap of burnt up memories, promises and lost dreams.

Surgery, radiation, ongoing treatment and sorrow filled her days and I imagine trying to be strong for her children only made the load heavier.

She’s a woman of faith, a photographer friend who gave me permission to share a little bit of her story here.

She set her camera aside for awhile. She told me that she didn’t have the strength to pick it up anymore and her passion for photography was gone. Her brokenheart didn’t have room for it anymore.

But God. But grace.

He’s been showing her that beauty and sadness can coexist. He’s given her strength and the desire to pick up her camera again. She’s sharing her art and the beauty she creates but sometimes the titles or captions on her photographs reveal her not so beautiful emotions … her unseen wounds.

I wrote a comment on one of her instagram posts when the sorrow of her words didn’t match the beauty of her photograph. “This is art (I wrote)…when beauty and sadness occupy the same space. It is possible to have both together.”

And it’s true. Isn’t it?

I thought about how that could be a metaphor for life. In the deepest of sadness there will always be times of encouragement. It can come from God in many ways but one way is through the beauty we see around us and even through the beauty we create.

I’ve noticed that most of us have an innate desire to create. That takes on different forms but think about yourself. What are your interests? Do you like to cook, bake, paint, draw, decorate, garden, craft, tackle home improvement projects … ? Also trouble shooting and coming up with new ways to handle a difficult situation falls under the umbrella of creativity as well.

We were designed by ‘The Creator’ and we were created in His image. Therefore, we must have those same qualities in us. Right?

I think we were all designed to be appreciators too. When we notice the beauty we see in our environment and appreciate it, we become people of gratitude. Writing down something we’re grateful for in a notebook or a journal at the end of the day can help shift our focus from our problems and alleviate some of the stress we’re feeling. This is especially helpful at the end of a hard day.

I was happy to see my brave friend capturing beauty again and creating art. Her sadness isn’t gone, her emotional and health struggles are still there but she’s managing to scale her mountain while trying to keep her mind on …

Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable — if anything is excellent or praiseworthy– think about such things. Philippians 4:8

Seeking the good through our trials, being able to see the beauty in spite of our battles, and trusting that the mountains we scale will produce spiritual strength and ultimate growth will help us persevere. The outcome …the strength; the growth … that’s a wonderful gift from God. He recycles our ash heaps and gives us beauty.

That’s grace. That’s mercy.

Blessings,

Nancy

A Jewish prayer/blessing I heard recently and find myself repeating often lately: Blessed are you, LORD our God, King of the Universe, through whose word everything comes into being.

Grace in the New Day

There’s grace in the sunrise

when darkness slowly fades away

and joy in the moment 

when I begin a brand new day


When the sun lifts up higher

covering the sky with more light

I see billows of clouds form

on a blue background so bright


Walking tree covered pathways,

listening to birds’ sweet songs

I hum with their singing

as I stroll peacefully along


My eyes spot wild roses

weaving in and out between trees

and I revel in all the beauty

of everything I see


Butterflies zigzag through bushes 

as they frolic around

with some landing softly on leaves 

without making a sound


On my path there’s dappling of sunshine

that streams from between leaves on high

and in the quiet of the morning I breathe

in and out with a sigh


It’s a long sigh of gratitude

from somewhere deep in my soul

that helps me appreciate God’s creation

and makes me feel whole

Nancy Janiga

Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. John 1:3

Between Two Gardens

butterfly ©

We live between two gardens

but at times it’s hard to comprehend

that what was lost so long ago

will be restored to us again


All the good and lovely things here

and the beauty we behold

are only glimpses of the remnants

left from the paradise of old


We long for more of all that’s good 

in that once beautiful garden space

but now we only know in part 

with scripture assuring us of that place


With our eyes of faith we can see it

as if it’s on a distant shore

so we’re not consumed by darkness here

for on that shore there is no more


God’s promises through Jesus Christ

make everything so clear

as we share with Him life’s bleakness

and verbalize our fear


We gain a deeper understanding

when we do not handle life alone

and seek Him and His Kingdom first 

with our gaze fixed on our forever home 


This hope will keep us steadfast

as we rejoice in Him and what will be …

a new heaven and a new earth 

and someday with our sight we’ll see

Nancy Janiga

Revelation 21

Oh my soul…

IMG_1621.JPG

Well hello there.  It’s been 9 months since I visited the pages of this journal so I just may be typing to myself.

During the past 9 months, like the 9 months that it takes to birth a new life, something new has been developing, growing and birthing in me.

I’m not sure if that means that I will consistently write in this space again but that may happen.

I’ve been up to soul care.  My soul care.  Sometimes, like King David, we need to speak to our souls.  I love the Psalms.  The honesty of David is so refreshing.  He was honest but always ended his prayers with attention directed toward God.  He may have been depressed, downtrodden, running for his life at times but in his honestly he found God to always be enough.  He could praise and worship the God who loved him only after pouring out his heart before him.  Sometimes he had to speak directly to his soul…Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God. Psalm 42:5

When Bob and I returned home after almost 11 months away for Bob’s cancer treatment and ultimate bone marrow transplant, I thought I’d pick up right where I left off.  But as Bob recovered I found that I needed a period of recovery too.

For so many months I ran 90 miles an hour without thinking much about what I/we were going through.  I had to stay strong, above collapsing, taking care of Bob, arranging hospital and doctor appointments, organizing the dozens of medications that he needed, making sure he received the correct doses at the right time, administering medications through IV’s, keeping everything sterile, watching him helpless; limp with barely being able to lift his head off of his pillow most days and feeling helpless when I couldn’t take his discomfort away.

Not much changed after we got home.  I was on high alert as Bob struggled with more setbacks and serious hospitalizations.  Go, go go… that’s what I did without much thinking, without much down time except praying and asking God to supply what I needed to keep going at that crazy pace.  I knew that I couldn’t get sick and that put more pressure on me.  There were times when I would think:  I feel sick.  What was that pain?  Oh no, I can’t get sick.  Bob needs me.  Sometimes my thoughts were irrational.  Stress will do that.

Bob’s doctors told us that it wasn’t going to be easy but we didn’t fully grasp the full scope of it until we got to the other side and looked back.

As Bob recovered and could do more for himself again, I found I remained on high alert not able to relax nor could I find lasting inner peace and quiet that I often experienced during the months away.  There was more peace during the hardest places because I was being carried…carried by the Lord even when I couldn’t feel it.  It’s obvious now in hindsight.

Many people run through life at high speed so they don’t have to face the truth about themselves or the thorny, painful, hurtful areas of life.  They know if they slow down they would have to come face to face with themselves, their fears and anxiety.  Running from the pain seems easier so they continue running in the wrong direction.   Trying to quench their thirst for God with counterfeit gods doesn’t bring lasting peace.  It’s just a bandage but won’t reach or heal the deep wounds of life.

What brings peace is being honest with ourselves, with God, facing our fears, hurts and surrendering them to God.   Then we can slow down and live at peace, because we’re no longer running away but toward the one who cares for us like a good father.

I’m by nature a quiet, reflective type.  It’s always been easy for me to unwind.  I always thrived on peace, quiet, and by being alone but the running to care for Bob, living for so long on high alert, in the flight or fright syndrome — not by choice but by necessity — I became accustomed to that lifestyle.  The hypervigilance that I lived for so long left me jumpy, waiting for the next crisis to respond to when I didn’t have to do that anymore.  It served me well for many months but began to hurt me when I couldn’t let it go after the necessity to live that way was gone.

I needed to face my fear, anxiety, claim it, speak it out loud, tell God about it and then surrender it all to him.  So I have been in process of letting go of the lifestyle I lived for so long and allowing a peaceful, quiet life to be birthed in me again.

That’s where I am.  I haven’t been gone just facing myself, those deepest fears, anxiety, realizing it’s okay to rest now.  Jesus says:  “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”  (Matthew 11:28)   It’s been good for me to rest in Christ.  

Healing comes in different ways.  Bob is in a complete molecular remission and I am healing emotionally.

Here’s a great song that speaks to me right now.  You may like it too.  Sometimes we just need to speak to our soul like King David did…

It’s all good, because like the lyrics by Casting Crowns says … “Oh my soul you are not alone.  There’s a place for fear to face the God you know.  One more day he will make a way.  Let him show you how you can lay this down.  Cause you’re not alone.”

That’s for me, for you, for all of us.

Blessings,

Nancy