What an "Anvil Year" 2008 Has Been!

For 2 years, I have prayed daily for contentment with our situation. . .in my mind (and heart), I never would have dreamed that it would take surrendering 4 children to experience contentment, but through our losses and, admittedly, the longing that we have for our 4 heavenly babies, the Lord has given us such peace and JOY.

He has turned our focus COMPLETELY towards the BLESSING that He has already entrusted to us (Sam), and reminded us (through Sam) that He is ALWAYS faithful, He is extremely GRACIOUS( I Cor. 12:9), and He is the same MIGHTY GOD who provided, "the WAY, the TRUTH, and the LIFE," (John 14:6). . .He NEVER changes!

Robert and I are both so thankful for what He has done for us, but we recognize that He has done these things because of WHO HE IS. . .He is our Abba God, our Jehovah Jireh, our Adonai, our Jehovah Shalom. . .He is I AM (Ex. 3:13-14). . .and in/through Him, we have found/been granted our peace and contentment. . .our reason for rejoicing (Phil. 4:4).

2008 has, at times, been painful, but the Lord has used our pain to draw us nearer to His heart in a manner that, had we not been led through the fire, we may have never experienced. He has been our comfortor and our rock more this year than ever before (N.B. It is not that the Lord just up and decided this year that He wanted to be those things to us. . .He has ALWAYS been, and will always be, a ROCK and the GREATEST source of comfort to His people!) This year, we were allowed the uncomfortable privilege of recognizing that, in our flesh, our best attempts to comfort each other infinitely pale in comparison to what the Lord offers to those who seek Him (Matt. 11:28-29). As strange as it may seem, through our discomfort and refinement by fire, we foundpeace and rest. This has been the greastest lesson/most amazing gift that we have received from 2008, for out of this lesson/gift, a desire to walk even more closely with our Heavenly Father has been born . . .ha, I just realized the irony of that previous statement (which may not make sense to anyone other than myself). . .I truly thought that 2008 would end with another Line baby having been born, but the Lord knew better. . .He had to call 3 of His/our babies home this year so that our renewed desire to serve Him could be born out of the fire.

Upon sitting down in front of my computer, I had not intended to record the following, but now, in light of my recent epitome, it seems appropriate to do so. . . . When I was 14 years old, I read a book (for the first time. . .there have been countless readings since) by Max Lucado that would forever change the way that I saw myself as a child of the Risen King. . .I did not know then that On the Anvil would be such a foreshadowing of my earthly life. . .now I do.

What follows is the introduction to On the Anvil. . .I hope the connection that I'm making here doesn't escape you, and that, at the very least, it makes you think about where the Lord has you at this very moment, on the verge of a New Year.

"In the shop of the blacksmith, there are three types of tools. There are tools on the junk pile: outdated, broken, dull, rusty. They sit in the cobwebbed corner, useless to their master, oblivious to their calling.

There are tools on the anvil: melted down, molten hot, moldable, changeable. They lie on the anvil, being shaped by their master, accepting their calling.

There are tools of usefulness: sharpened, primed, defined, mobile. They lie ready in the blacksmith's tool chest, available to their master, fulfilling their calling.

Some people lie useless: lives broken, talents wasting, fires quenched, dreams dashed. They are tossed in with the scrap iron, in desperate need of repair, with no notion of purpose.

Others lie on the anvil: hearts open, hungry to change, wounds healing, visions clearing. They welcome the painful pounding of the blacksmith's hammer, longing to be rebuilt, begging to be called.

Others lie in their Master's hands: well tuned, uncompromising, polished, productive. They respond to their Master's forearm, demanding nothing, surrendering all.

We are all somewhere in the blacksmith's shop. We are either on the scrap pile, in the Master's hands on the anvil, or in the tool chest. (Some of us have been in all three.)"

2008 has been an "anvil year" for the Lines. We have been pounded, molded, changed. . .Praise the Lord!!! It is my prayer that, in 2009, we will make it to the "tool box!" For now, however, it is with great thanksgiving that we eagerly anticipate where the Lord will lead us/how He will use us in 2009! Happy, Blessed New Year!!!!

Poem from Aunt Jean

While I realize that this post is not my usual "rant," I thought that, for the 5 people who actually read this Blog, you might get a kick out of it. . .I received it today via email, and while I did laugh ("Truth is good for the soul but horrible for the reputation"~Mrs. Sharon), it gave me pause to think. . .I pray that this earthly life I live is such that, upon entry to Eternal Glory, the same is not said of me! Enjoy!

BEST POEM IN THE WORLD!
I was shocked, confused, bewildered As I entered Heaven's door, Not by the beauty of it all, Nor the lights or its decor.

But it was the folks in Heaven Who made me sputter and gasp-- The thieves, the liars, the sinners, The alcoholics and the trash.

There stood the kid from seventh grade Who swiped my lunch money twice. Next to him was my old neighbor Who never said anything nice.

Herb, who I always thought Was rotting away in hell, Was sitting pretty on cloud nine, Looking incredibly well.

I nudged Jesus, 'What's the deal? I would love to hear Your take. How'd all these sinners get up here? God must've made a mistake.

'And why's everyone so quiet, So somber - give me a clue.' 'Hush, child,' He said, 'they're all in shock. No one expected you.'

*JUDGE NOT Remember...Just going to church doesn't make you a Christian, any more than standing in your garage makes you a car.

Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas Tree. . .

I love how the Lord continues to show us the rainbows in spite of the rain. On Friday, December 5, 2008 (one day after learning our news), Robert realized that he could not be the Christmas tree Nazi any longer. . .so off to Avery Christmas Tree Farm in Purvis, MS we went. It was such a wonderful time of "us-ness". . .we laughed, we talked, we walked, we just were.

I am so thankful that the Lord used this time of tree-hunting to encourage our hearts and grant us perspective into our loss. It was a gift, we had a blast, and Sam made a new friend (surprise, surprise) in Mr. Collins (Mr. Avery's nephew who let Sam ride on the 4-wheeler with him)!

Here are some pics and a video. . .Enjoy!

Sam took his tree decorating VERY seriously! He did a GREAT job!

God said No. . .

. . .Sometimes He does. . .once again, I am a broken vessel, but my Creator will mend me, and He will use me for His glory in spite of my rugged exterior.
I am SO blessed! I am blessed by a loving Father who knows how it feels to lose a child. . .He's a Father, for crying out loud. . .I am blessed with a loving husband who encourages me and pushes me forward. . .I am blessed with an amazing son who, medically speaking, shouldn't even be here, and who thinks I'm AWESOME (little does he know) and who, daily, gives me glimpses of my Heavenly Father through our relationship! Oh yes, I am blessed beyond measure!

*Some Thoughts*

• I have NEVER known my Savior to lead me somewhere then leave me there ALONE! (Deut. 4:31)
• If I desire something other than "more of the Lord," then I'm not truly delighting myself in Him (Psa. 37:4). Try it. . .When we TRULY delight ourselves in the Lord, He fills us to such capacity that, in spite of the hills and valleys that we walk through, there is no room for any want or desire of any kind. So what about those things that we might term "desires of our hearts" that the Lord has very obviously given us (i.e. loving spouses; supportive families; strong, healthy children). . .those are the gifts/blessings that our Father bestows upon us to further prove His faithfulness and His grace and, on occasion, to reward our sinful selves for acts of obediance. Because we have been entrusted with these gifts, we must "use" them for His glory. . . . So here's the question: Has my relationship with my husband brought glory to my Savior today/Have I treated my child in a manner that shows the Lord how grateful I am for this precious gift of life that He has entrusted to me?!?
• God can't be a provider, healer, omniscient, etc. God some of the time, or only when it is convenient to His people. . .it's contrary to His character. He has to be all of these things all of the time to all of His people, that's just who He is! He's not Jehovah Rapha only when I'm sick. . .He is forever healing and mending me! He is not Jehovah Jireh only when I need something. . .He provides for me constantly! He is not El Roi only when I want His attention and guidance. . .He sees all things, always! You get the idea. All things considered, maybe instead of blaming God when things don't go our way, or asking Him where He was in the midst of our personal storms, we should ask ourselves why we weren't paying attention to the road signs He placed before us (Turn Here, Detour, STOP, etc.) or the road map that He provided to show us "The Way" (John 14:6), or why, during life's storms, we clung for dear life to the things of this world instead of clinging to the One who created the world (Isa. 42:5).
• God has NOT changed. . .He will not change (Heb. 13:8). . .He will not defy His character! He is EXACTLY who He says He is. . .the Great I AM (Ex. 3:14). It is comforting to me, in the midst of this microwave society fueled by instant gratification that my Abba God, my Adonai, my Jehovah Shalom will always remain the same. . .His promises to me will never be broken. I can definitely put my hope in that!

Grateful to be a Broken Servant,

Tish

Our Lives WILL Change in the Next 24 Hours. . .

. . .that's for certain!!! Will we cry tears of joy or just tears? It's funny how a little needle stick, drawn blood, and a phone call can change your life so drastically, and yet, here we are, within 24 hours of receiving that phone call. . .we are cautiously optimistic.
I am resting in my Father, recognizing that he has led us to this place, and thankful that, in my 29+ years, He has NEVER left me somewhere that He has led me (no matter how many times I have turned and left Him. . .Father, again, forgive me for being a thoughtless sheep). In the words of a dear friend who has become like a father to me, "I don't know what the future holds, but I know who holds my future!" I am humbled and honored to be a Kingdom Vessel.

Right now, in Jackson, Mississippi. . .

8 potential warriors are growing. . .culled down from 13.

13 For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful, I know that full well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,
16 your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me
were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
~Psalm 139:13-16

"More blessed to give than to receive." ~Acts 20:35

I realize that this post is a bit overdue, but life has been very busy for the Line family these past few weeks, what with driving back and forth to Jackson every other day, birthday "pottys," youth group, Nonnie and Papa coming to town, etc., etc., etc. While the list of things to do continues to grow, I wanted to find time to post this picture, if for no other reason than to remind me to take time to be "different" and to serve others in the midst of the chaos that life, here lately, has continued to hurl our way.
This is a picture of Sam, sitting on our front doorstep, on Halloween night. Maybe to those of you who don't really know Sam, this picture might not seem like a big deal. . .but for those of you who do know him, you know that he (like his mama) RARELY sits still. . .yet, here he is, my heart, in his Wall-E costume that he had begged us for for the 2 months leading up to Halloween. All week long, he had asked me EVERY day if "today" was Halloween, and I would pick him up, walk him over to the calendar, take his little hand, and physically count backwards from Halloween to whatever day it actually happened to be. He was so excited at the prospect of getting dressed up, seeing his friends dress up, trick-or-treating with his neighborhood friends and some of the "Big Gulls" from our youth group, and most importantly. . .GETTING CANDY (poor kid. . .he so rarely gets candy at home that the thought of being given mountains of free candy was more than he could stand). Needless to say, when 5:45 rolled around on Friday, October 31, Sam Wall-E Line was READY TO ROLL!!!!
Armed with his "smiley-face punkin candy bucket," because, as he told everyone who opened their door, "My candy bucket isn't sca-wee because my mama says that Jesus doesn't like Halloween," (which, by the way, I NEVER said that), Sam took to the streets in search of candy nirvana. The first door opens, Sam almost falls over himself as he screams in the most high-pitched, above-the-sound-barrier squeal. . ."TWICK OWR TWEAT. PWEASE!!!!" (He had rehearsed all week). As our now deaf neighbor reaches for the candy bucket, Sam invites himself into her home, just as he would the next 10 houses that we visited. . .he apparently thought that, not only was Halloween a night of free candy, but it was also a neighborhood open house designed just for him to come in and play with other childrens' toys. Pulling him out of our neighbor's home, I apologize and then listen in horror as Sam inspects his first treasures of the night and replies, "Um, Esscuse me, Miss (Her name shall remain anonymous). . .is this candy safe for me? I fink that it wooks wike a chocwate candy baw, and chocwate is not safe for me. He-uh, you can have it back, I don't want to go to the hospital (wait for it) AGAIN!" I so desperately wanted to spend the next 2 hours explaining to my precious neighbor that my child was not, in fact, an ungrateful ragamuffin, he's just allergic to everything but cardboard, and maybe it wasn't such a good idea to take him trick-or-treating in light of this fact, but I didn't want to deprive him of any fun, oh and, by the way, his daddy has been out of town for a couple of days now, and his behavior tends to decline with each passing day that Robert is gone (what does this say about me as a mother. . .don't answer that), but at least Sam said excuse me before throwing her piece of bite-sized chocolate AWESOMENESS back into her nicely decorated Halloween candy dispenser. . . . Instead, I stood there in disbelief, my lower jaw firmly planted to her front door step, and watched as Wall-E sprinted in Carl Lewis-like fashion to the next house. I think I managed to get an, "uuummmm, ok-then, have a good evening," out of my mouth as I turned to pursue my preschooler. I arrived at the door of our next victim just in time to see Sam handing a piece of candy back to another neighbor. "Thanks," says my son, "But I don't fink that I'll be eating dat." This is pretty much the way that our night progressed for the next 8 houses; but I noticed around house number 4 that Wall-E was no longer running from house to house. . .rather, he was walking slowly, swinging his still empty smiley-faced "punkin" candy bucket in his right hand, holding my hand in his left.
We walked slowly down the street together, surrounded by the shouts of excitement and accomplishment of neighborhood children who were increasing their candy quantities with every doorbell ring. . .my heart was breaking. Behind his Wall-E mask, I could see his big, blue eyes welling up with tears. I stopped in front of a house and waved our friends along as I knelt down beside my precious son. "Sammy, are you alright? Mommy can see that you are sad about something, do you want to talk about it?" Deep Breath. . .Here it Comes. . ."Mommy," he says, his little voice cracking, "Everybody says that I'm different. I don't want to be different. I want to be like (he lists several of his friends)." "Oh Buddy!!! What do you mean people say that you are different?" "Well, when I am at school, I always have to eat away from evwyone else, and I don't get to eat the fings that they eat, and they all say I'm different. I know it's twoo, Mommy, because look (He points into his empty bucket)!"
Jehovah Jireh, provide me with the words to say, because right now, in my flesh, I want to track down some 3 year olds and give them a good talking to. . .and then the words start to flow. . . . "Son, I'm so proud of you for being different. I'm so thankful that Jesus gave you, and not someone else, to Daddy and me. You are different in so many ways, just like Mommy is different from Geegee, and Daddy is different from Papa. . .none of us are the same. . .that's how God created us. . .He created us to be different." Tears are still flowing at this point, but he's intently looking at me, so I continue, "Sam, if we were to be like everyone else in the world, how would we make a difference for Jesus? Remember our devotional the other day about being set apart?" He looks at me and says, "Do not conforwm to this world. . .Woe-mans 12:2" HE IS GETTING IT!!!! "Sam, do you see what is inside your bucket?" He looks in his bucket and replies, "Nuffin." "Right, nothing! Do you know that there are people who are like your bucket. They are filled with nothing. But when we have Jesus in our hearts, we are so full that you couldn't fit any more candy in our buckets, and when we get full like that, it's good to share what Jesus has given us with the people who have nothing. . .It takes a special kind of person to do that, son. . .Only someone who wants to be different for Jesus can do that." The tears have stopped, and he is now looking into his bucket again. "Does that make sense," I ask him. He looks up at me and says, "Mama, I fink I'm done wif dis twick-or-tweating stuff. I want to go home." I think that I said too much, and now, I've lost him; nonetheless, we turn around and start heading back towards the house. The sky is beginning to get dark, and the trick-or-treaters are out en masse now. As we approach the edge of our yard, we see a crowd of kids walking up our front sidewalk and Sam rips his hand from mine, Carl Lewis sprinting (once again) through our yard, up our front steps, and to the bucket of candy that I had left outside (which was still, surprisingly, full). What happened next still floors me some 3 weeks later. . .Sam proceeds to fill each child's bucket by the handfull. . .He was, by no means, conserving candy. I could hear kids telling each other to come to our house because some little boy was giving out "tons of candy," AND Sam told each visitor, "thank you for coming and be careful," which was a nice touch, I think. Once things died down a bit, I told him how proud I was of him for doing such a good job handing out candy, and that he was the friendliest Wall-E that I had ever seen. "Yeah," he said, "I fink I like giving candy away better than I like getting it. It's fun to fill buckets, Mama. . .I fink that when I fill buckets, Jesus doesn't mind Halloween so much. . .it makes Him happy."
Yes, my sweet son, I couldn't have said it better myself, filling buckets makes Jesus happy. . .even on Halloween!