When we feel we’ve been forgotten.

A rare trip alone to the grocery store was exactly what I needed to clear my head. I was just a driver, not a Taxi driver, not a Chef handing out snacks ( more like flinging them into the backseat hoping they land on someones lap). I was just me. It was quiet and I began to pray. This month has been hard on us in many ways. Learning to persevere through hard times has become the landscape of our lives. Pun intended.

I parked the mini van and sat in silence. Three long breaths in and out , I gathered all my energy to go into the store and get the healthiest food I could find. Along with staple items for the adults. Oreo’s and beer.

I cut the van off and sat there in the heat for a moment. Suddenly my ears rang with a LOUD dial tone. Perhaps it was my cell phone, maybe something on the radio?

I looked at both, with no such luck as to an explanation. I sat there, sweat dripping down my brow listening to this dial tone. AS LOUD AND AS REAL AS A BABY CRYING NEXT TO ME.

” Lord what are you trying to tell me?”

It was then I knew it was a heavenly sound, that if someone was in the van with me they may not have heard it. For it was ordained for me to hear. But why?


Asher got into the van after his day at school, only to want to discuss his birthday party for next week. I haven’t planned anything, as I have been taking care of his sick sister for the past three days. He starts to spout off ideas as I nod my head in agreement, except for this one:

” And Dad can fix up our pool, so that I can have a HUGE pool party in our backyard!”

” Honey, our pool is so old. It would take thousands of dollars to fix it. We don’t have that money right now.”

” Why not? Why does it cost dollars to fix something? That’s dumb.”

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Driving down the road we get stopped at the stoplight. Men in oversized florescent vests are handing out flyers to promote the giving to a charity organization for recovering addicts. All too close to home this week. I rolled my window down and told the man I didn’t have any cash, as I never do but that I would donate online. He nodded his head and went to the car behind me. Asher had several questions for me.

” Why are they taking up money?”

” It is for people that don’t have money like we do. They don’t have enough to live.”

” WELL, we don’t have enough money either. “

” What do you mean buddy?”

” We need money too! We need money to fix our pool!”

Trying to drive and explain the value of money to our six year old wasn’t easy. For him, money was money. Regardless of the amount, or need for it. The way he saw it was that we were just as poor as the men in rehab. If we couldn’t fix up our pool, then we needed to be on the streets taking up money as well.


This week I have cried out to the Lord to shower his blessings upon our family. To show me His love in a tangible way. To wrap his loving arms around me in a way that I feel relief from lives blows. Just when I feel so forgotten in the mess. So left behind in the chaos of life.

I feel that I have cried out for him to ” fix my pool” , when in reality there is more to be restored than something that only brings pleasure. He wants to restore the thing that destroyed my pool, the weathering of time that makes us feel old and gray. The fear that comes with pain, and the rot that replaces the clean tile in our lives.

Whether we like it or not there is a time in our lives where he is chipping away old wounds, in order to replace them with a shiny finish. A glow. And it hurts.

When we feel that he is silent in replacing things that are old, and broken, perhaps he would rather work on the now of our hearts, after he is finished with our wounds.  To quickly fix old broken wounds, and replace them with his love.

His love that is greater than any old pool. His love that surrounds us in an embrace that none can ” one up”. As life goes on and we are wounded, he is there to patch us up.


After time and prayer, I knew that that “dial tone” I heard in my van was him saying to me:

I am speaking to you. Just tune in.

To be honest with you , my readers. I have experienced a time of silence from Him. I am floundering , so to speak. I am desperate for His voice and wisdom in these times in our lives. In many areas we need wisdom.

I know that I know He has not left our side. We are just waiting on His voice. His voice that is recognizable, Good, and just. And when He does speak, we will gain wisdom. Until then, we wait. We look at the dirty pool, and we see potential. We wait for his voice to carry us through.

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