I have not blogged yet this year.  I started one but I don't remember what happened to cause me to abandon it unfinished.  But here we are, almost to March, and you've read 0 new blog posts from me.  I am deeply sorry about that.  And also about the state of my mind.

Writing is my therapy.  And also memes.  Those are fun too.

Actually let's talk about that for a minute.  When I scrolled thru my photos they were mostly pictures of food or memes that I saved.

Sorry kids.  I probably need an intervention.

There are also pictures related to food and/or the making of food.

And one of me eating food.

Ahem.

Now that you know the contents of my photo stream we can get on with your regularly scheduled blog post.

Wait, one more.

This girl slays me. 

 Every.Single.Time.

I accidentally left my sunglasses at her house and my sister texted me this picture saying "I hope Riley doesn't fall and break her face...or your glasses."

Now, onto the meat of the blog.

Deep breath.

I'm not even sure how to start.

This post has been rolling around in my heart for a full week, parts of it even longer than that.  It could get real heavy and really real and I've debated on how raw I'm willing to be.  But two weeks ago I stood up in front of my congregation and I was real and I talked about mental illness, my mental illness, and the feedback I got was so affirming and life-giving.  So, let's dive into this next story.

Have you ever prayed for a miracle that didn't happen?  Like, prayed and really believed that the Lord would do the thing you asked for?  And then He didn't?  This is that story.  It's messy.  But I invite you into the mess with me.

Without going into all the details (because not all of this is my story to tell) I laid my hands on someone I love dearly and prayed for a miracle a few weeks ago.  I did it because I felt the Holy Spirit leading me to.  I didn't want to do it but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was supposed to.  And so I took the risk.

As soon as I did it I was bombarded with guilt and fear that I had given this person false hope.  I prayed again and again like the father in Mark 9:24 "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!".

Several weeks went by and it became apparent that the miracle I asked for wasn't going to happen.  And then my pastor preached a sermon on taking the risks Jesus asks us to.  I knew I had to talk to him about this story that I was involved in because I didn't know what to do with it.  

What in the world do you do when you feel you've taken a risk in obedience to Christ and it ends badly??

And my wise pastor listened to me, prayed with me, and encouraged me to write a psalm of lament.

Have you read the Psalms?  I love them if only for the gamut of emotion they run.  There are psalms of praise, psalms of thanksgiving, psalms of despair, psalms of lament.  Nothing is sugar coated, nothing is cleaned up and wrapped in a neat little bow.  This is real life stuff.  It's raw and messy and brutal.

So, the next morning in my quiet house, I did the hard work of writing how I actually felt.  I had to stop more than once because I was crying too hard to see.  It wasn't this cute-little-tear-trickle kind of crying.  It was ugly-bent-in-half-gut-wrenching sobbing.

When I was done I shared my psalm of lament with my pastor.  And I'll share it now with you.

My spirit feels crushed within me,

my heart, torn in two.

Anger, pain, and guilt vie for first place,

my eyes ache from weeping.

Is my faith too small?

Did I misinterpret God?

Are my prayers broken?

What happens now?

I crave the sunshine

and yet it feels like a mockery.

I crave the Son

and yet I am angry with him.

Why?  Why did You not preserve life?

Why?  Why did you let it happen again?

Why?  Why do you let the faithful suffer?

Why?  Why do the wicked receive?

How long, oh Lord, must we wait?

How long for the gift of life?

How long till our hearts are mended?

Will they ever be?

The days march on, one after another

and I learn to live with a broken heart.

Somehow the pieces keep beating,

marking time, marking moments.

There is sorrow, yes, but also joy.

It is the greatest of mysteries

how the two can exist together.

Will I ever understand?

Can I rest in the knowledge that God is good?

My heart screams betrayal.

My mind remembers past faithfulness.

My eyes see present gifts.

This story is a mess.

I cannot see a clear way.

So this is where trust comes in

and I will be truthful.

Lord, I believe you are good,

help my unbelief.

Lord, I believe you for life,

help my unbelief.

So I'll put one foot in front of the other.

My heart will continue to beat.

I will lift my hands high

and my eyes will see the glory of the Lord.

When I wrote that I didn't know that the very next day the Lord would remind me of an important truth thru the glory of the sunrise.

I have one son who almost always jerks away when I try to touch him.  But almost every day he comes to me saying "I need a hug" and I am happy to comply.  This same son will often join me on the couch before anyone else is awake and sit smack against me.  I'm not allowed to put my arm around him or squeeze his knee or touch his foot with mine.  All the touching needs to be his idea and I try to respect that.

So the day after I wrote my psalm of lament this early morning son and I were on the couch, drinking coffee, watching the sun rise out the double front window of our house.

It was so beautiful and I didn't want to stop watching it but the other two windows in the room were catching my eye.  Two windows that faced almost in the same direction as the front window.  

Here is the view from the window closest to the front window:

Still really beautiful, right?  But only a hint of color even tho these two pictures were taken within the same minute.  The perspective is shifted only a few feet.

And then the third window.  It's in the same room as the first two, but, again, the perspective is shifted a few feet.

Almost complete darkness.  I said to my son, without thinking any deeper than the sunrise, "Wow, if we only looked out this window we would have no idea the sun was coming up."

And just like that all the breath left my lungs and I was stunned to silence.  When I am focused only on looking out life's window of pain and unmet expectations and loss and grief I cannot see the beauty coming up mere feet away.

And here's another thing, if I am patient and wait even five minutes,  the windows tell a new story.

Days later I am still in awe when I look at these photos.  Is waiting in the dark fun?  Nope, not even a little bit.  It's maybe one of the most not fun things ever.  It's painful and confusing and sometimes super lonely.  But how much more beautiful are the colors of the dawn after we've endured the black of night?

Which of life's windows holds your perspective right now?  If you only see the dark may I humbly suggest you write a psalm of lament?  If you see the light may I humbly suggest you encourage someone who you know is in the dark?

And may Jesus continue to reveal himself to all of us.

So I think in blogs past I've mentioned that I work at Lickity Split in New Holland.  I've been there for four years and I love it.  My dear bosses (Mitch and Gina) are also my dear friends. 

They are my frosses?  My briends?  Whatever.  I like them and I also work for them.  

They are lovely people.  Generous.  Fun loving.  Creative.  Good salt of the earth people.

The restaurant that they own is in the historic Kauffman's Hardware building.  Mitch has a real passion for history, especially New Holland history.  He has told me so many interesting things about our town's history that I have loved hearing and have also promptly forgotten (no offense, Mitch, it's not you, it's me).

Gina is an idea girl, as am I.  We talk lots of ideas.  She is the one person who I think has a more active brain than myself.

There is this one idea that we've been talking about for more than a year.  It's The Idea that this blog post is going to be about.

Eventually.

But first, I need to let you in a bit on mine and Gina's texting history.  

You see, today I was going back thru the pictures we've texted each other looking for pictures to share with you about The Idea and I was just so amused by our picture history.  It was this super weird mash up of work related stuff, family life stuff, funny stuff, and, uh, inappropriate stuff.  I won't be sharing anything from the last category but think junior high boy humor.  It's how we roll and I can't fix it.

We text a lot about work.  I help to manage the restaurant and Gina will ask my opinion about things or we'll share recipe ideas or she'll send me pictures to post on our Lickity Split Facebook page (which you should go ahead and 'like', by the way).

 This was not my finest moment.

We send pictures of our regular everyday life stuff.  Gina babysits her granddaughter twice a week and that little girl is the light of her life.  I get lots of sweet pictures like this one:

I send her pictures of my son, Jake, who wrote a song a few years ago called "I love my Gina so much".

Sometimes I get excited about ordinary things so I send them to Gina.

New tall socks.  Is there anything better?  I submit there is not.

Food that looks like a turkey but is not actually a turkey.  I love it.

Leftovers I've saved for them because my family has stupid tastebuds.

This gorgeous tray that my cousin made.

Sometimes we play this game called "currently". 

(I was going to explain it but then realized that it's pretty self explanatory.  Sorry for being momentarily stupid.)

(Gina, please don't hate me for this.  I couldn't help myself.)

And then there are the things that amuse us.  Please enjoy the ones that made the cut.  I don't think any of these will cause you to pass judgment on us.

Some are ice cream related because duh.

Some are not.

So, now that you understand our particular brand of weirdness, we can move on to The Idea.

Some of you will remember from the Kauffman Hardware days that there is a jail cell in the basement.  It's right under Lickity Split.

We had been using the basement space as storage.  I've often gone down there and just kinda spun in a slow circle thinking what a great space it is.  Big window. Hardwood floors.  A pretty door with steps up to Main Street.  And the history.  I loved to think about things that might have happened in that room.

I honestly don't know if it was my idea or Gina's.  Or if we started talking and the ideas flowed and there was some kind of idea marriage and it became both of our ideas.  However it happened, we started talking about using the basement space for special dinners.  Dinners by the jail.  To serve delicious food and have a historian tell stories of old time New Holland.  To let people see the jail and to enjoy this beautiful space.

Except it wasn't super beautiful as it was.  It needed work.  We initially thought a good cleaning and a coat of paint over the paneled walls, some furniture, and maybe a few other touch ups and we'd be good to go.

It ended up being a lot more involved.  And the final product is a lot more beautiful than I imagined it could be.

Gina's friends, Chip and Nate, put in many hours.  They discovered that behind the paneled walls were original stone and brick walls.

The stone and brick were gorgeous but crumbly.  Enter Gina's mason friend, Johnny.

Gina's dad and nephew put in time as well.  Painting and cleaning and general handyman stuff. 

Gotta keep those shoes clean!

Mitch's dad stopped by to check on the progress and somehow ended up behind bars.

I've been busy going to auctions to find furnishings for the basement.  I am itching to get on with the decorating already!

Gina and I have been sending pictures back and forth on ideas of how to decorate and pieces we want to look for.

I hired my brother to make tables out of old doors we found in the basement.  He had the most fun and said they are the best tables he's ever made.  If you want a unique custom made table ask me for his contact info!

Our space is very nearly finished and now all we need is...you.

What are you doing for dinner on New Year's Eve?  We are taking reservations for our first ever History Mystery Dinner!

Enjoy a four course meal followed by a visit from a famous New Holland historical figure and end the evening with a scavenger hunt in the New Holland Area Historical Society Museum.

The menu (probably my favorite part) is as follows:

Appetizers:  mini cheeseballs (because mini food is the best)

                    glazed kielbasa

                    cranberry and brie crostini 

                  

Salad:          romaine topped with apples, cheddar, and pecans with 

                    a maple balsamic dressing  

Main Dish:  Pulled pork, mashed potatoes, and parmesan roasted

                    carrots

Dessert:      caramel apple crumble pie with ice cream

                   Pellman's cheesecake with raspberry drizzle

Beverages: holiday punch, water, and coffee

Is your mouth watering?   

Our event is running from 6:00-8:30 so you still have time before midnight to squeeze in some other New Year's festivities.  To reserve your seats you can order online at www.thelickitysplit.com or you can call the restaurant (717-354-4YUM) with your credit card number or you can stop in and pay (and maybe see me, an added bonus!).

I am so excited to finally be able to share this idea with you all!  Thank you for taking the time to read my ramblings once again.  I really do think you are the best!