Homesick

I have been wondering this morning as I read through the book of Luke, if Jesus ever felt displaced and homesick. From His birth, He was somewhere drastically new. As He grew, did He acutely feel how different He was? Did He yearn to be back with His Father some days? Was it more hard to be fully God and fully human than we could ever imagine? 

As a man, He didn't really have a home. He traveled from place to place on a mission deeply motivated by love. He wasn't accepted in His own home town and rejected by many. I think He must've loved His disciples dearly, in part, because of His displacement. They were His family. 

I can only imagine how lonely that earthly journey must've been at times. 

He truly is a God who is well acquainted with who we are and how we feel, and I am grateful for that.

The cross must have felt unbearable, but His walk to that cross most assuredly was not easy, either.

I ponder these things from a limited, human brain. Yet, I understand as much as I am able to, what a completely loving God we serve. 

How privileged we are to belong to Him!

He is worthy of all praise and heartfelt gratitude every day.

Written by,

Dee M. Kostelyk

The Truth About the Woman in the Song

A few weeks ago I was listening in the car to a country song by Waylon Jennings called, "Good Hearted Woman." It was a classic country song I had grown up listening to and I knew the lyrics by heart. But this time, they triggered the heck out of me.

The man in the song was talking about how he wasn't easy to be around and his bad behavior. Despite that, his woman had stuck by his side. However, the way it was worded and sung, made it sound like this woman (in my opinion) was praised for sticking with him instead of being praised for her strength, perseverance, and depth of character. It was as if the writer of the lyrics didn't see or know her at all; she was an extension of himself and not her own person.

These thoughts went quickly through my mind and followed by that, was a vision I created of who this woman was and how I bet a lot of people misunderstood her. 

I suppose because it was a country song, I imagined a little house in a field with few big oak trees and a front porch decorated with second-hand knick knacks from garage sales. 

Maybe I'm thinking too much about Little House on the Prairie, but she had sort of a "Ma Ingalls" look to her only her hair had come loose of its bun. Her hands were delicate but weathered, and her eyes were kind.

I imagined coming to her door and being invited to sit on her front porch and have coffee with her. Something about her, made me want to know her better. My head conjured that there were rumors that she was a doormat, in denial, and weak; she was possibly a sweet simpleton married to a sorry ass sinner.

Yet, I instinctively knew I was going to learn something from her.

"Tell me," I said, quietly.

She smiled as she looked down and hugged her coffee mug with both hands, thinking for a moment.

And, then she said in the most soft, bold, and convicting voice I had ever heard:

"I am wonderfully and fearfully made by my Father. His work is wonderful and I know this in my soul. His thoughts about me outnumber the grains of sand. 

I love Him with everything in me. He is my Rock and I've taken refuge in Him countless times. He has rescued me because He loves me and delights in me. His right hand has sustained me.

I have called on the Lord so many times in my life asking for wisdom which he gave to me generously and without any judgment. 

He has given me the grace to persevere, become mature, and find so much joy. He has been close to me when my heart was broken.

He has taken my fears and replaced them with power, love, and sharp reasoning.

I've been able to comfort others as He has comforted me many times. I've been able to forgive as He has forgiven me, much."

At this point, she looked at me through happy tears, and said, "The Lord has allowed me to see and know things I never would have, without Him. He has taken and given. He has bestowed peace that passes understanding and when that has flown out the window, He has rescued me. He has spoken for me and through me. He has, is, and will give me my heart's desires in the name of Jesus."

She leaned forward, squeezed my hand and said, "My inheritance is secure. At the end of all this, I get to be in glory with Jesus with my family - in my real home. I can scarcely take that in!"

She started rocking again in her chair, laid her head back, and closed her eyes in contentment. It might've been the most powerful thing I had ever seen. There was nothing simple minded about this woman.

This flash of a vision came and went but it impacted me, greatly. 

I sat peacefully in the passenger seat, riding with the love of my life, and looking out the car window as the moment moved on.

Maybe that's the truth about the woman in the song.

Written by,

Dee M. Kostelyk

Ambiguous Loss

 

A while back I did research on something called, "Ambiguous Loss." I knew there had to be a name and validation for what I was experiencing and many others in similar, but different circumstances. I was surprised to find very little information about this type of loss.

Generally speaking, ambiguous loss is when you grieve a person that is still living. Some examples that could cause this type of loss include (but are not limited to) Alzheimer's/Dementia, brain injury, mental illness, addiction, or even a profound change in someone's morality, character, and/or personality.

I am not an expert on loss. I cannot compare losses - which kind is easier or harder. I have walked alongside others experiencing various losses and I suppose you could call me an "expert" of my own experience which is unique to me.

Some day, when the time is right, I believe God will give me a larger audience and a bigger voice on this topic. But, for today, I want to acknowledge those of you who are walking this (sometimes unbearable) type of grief.

One of the reasons it feels heart crushing is because you don't know if there is hope to get this person "back." You don't know if you are a weak fool, a strong person who can persevere, crazy, sane, or a bit of all of it. You. Don't. Have. Answers. There is little to no closure and in fact, you don't know what closure looks like. There is no funeral, burial, flowers, cards, or casseroles. Heck, there is little acknowledgment of the hell on Earth you are feeling. 

Even Google can't give an explanation.

But, you know in your heart the waves of grief that slam into you at any given moment. You know this is real because you are breathing it, daily.

So, for whatever it's worth, I see you. Your pain is valid. The uncertainty, fear, and even horror absolutely make sense. The heartbreak of this loss is real.

I also know this is not your whole story. You are valuable, capable, and intelligent. You are okay.

YOU ARE SANE.

Give yourself a hug for the warrior you are, the tears that have been shed, and the love you have given.

You are to be respected and admired.

Some day I'm going to take my pain and healing, and with boldness proclaim the truth about what is real right here in my story (and the story of countless others).

Jesus binds our wounds.

Be encouraged.

Written by,

Dee M. Kostelyk

Dear Body

Dear Body,

I am sorry for the ways I berated you and felt ashamed of you. I’m sorry for how much I took you for granted and even used you to evaluate my worth.

I’m sorry for the lies I told you and the pressure I put on you to perform. I’m sorry for hiding, ignoring, and putting you in a corner.

I’m sorry for wishing you looked differently and blaming you for my lack of confidence. I’m sorry for the names I called you and the times I wanted you to disappear.

The truth is that you are wonderfully and fearfully made, and God knew you before you were even formed in your mother's womb. You are a temple and a sacred home for the Holy Spirit.

Thank you for walking all the miles, bearing all the weight, and generously giving of yourself.

I see your aging scars, baby scars, cancer scars and surgery scars. Thank you for not giving out on me. Thank you for holding me together. Thank you for the miraculous way you healed and nurtured me.

Thank you for giving me the ability to taste, see, smell, hear, and touch.

Thank you for giving me the privilege of housing three babies - for the heartbeats I got to hear - the little legs I got to feel in my belly - how you fed and gave them life.

Thank you for healing my breast of cancer cells and then using my own fat to restore that breast back to shape. I’m so grateful to you.

Thank you for how you have used my hands and arms to provide comfort, love, and protection to my children, husband, and others.

Thank you for my heart and other organs that continue working each day apart from any conscious effort of mine.

Thank you for producing tears, laughter, joy, and even grief. Thank you for showing me how to embrace life and be resilient. Thank you for my emotions.

Thank you for the logical part of my brain, too. I need you.

Thank you for my brown eyes. I like them. Thank you for the response I have to nature and fresh air. I like that, too.

Thank you for the taste of pizza, tacos, and cheesecake. Thank you for the smell of coffee.

Thank you for the art of making love and receiving love.

Thank you for alerting me when something isn't right and when something, is.

Dearest body, you deserve a long and tender hug. Thank you for being with me all the days of my life and for growing with me.

There is no one else like you.

You are fabulous.

You are miraculous.

You are God’s masterpiece.

You are mine and we are His.

Written by,
Dee Kostelyk
4.11.24🌷

Welcome, 2024

I was reminded yesterday how most of life is spent in the middle of dry ground. What I mean is that by no stretch of the imagination are we moving through one high to another. In fact, the body was not designed to have the capacity for that.

We live in a world where much emphasis is placed on feeling happy or, just plain, feeling. Peacefully hanging in an expanse of space without experiencing a rush of one thing or another racing through our body is kind of foreign.

We are an overly emotional bunch and when the music fades, as it always must, we haven't the slightest idea how to sit, breathe, and settle there.

I preach to myself.

I have had to work through the New Year's weekend because mental health doesn't take a break for weekends and holidays. This morning, as I sat quietly with my coffee and devotions well before the sun had even risen, I would describe how I felt as purely, blah. I was a monochromatic gray that could have blended into the couch cushions.

Contributing to this was the fact that I had gotten sick over Christmas weekend and had recently spent much time in my bed staring at the TV.

BLAH.

Shoot, even some sort of crisis to solve would've felt better.

So, I had to do what God had been teaching me to do for a long time and which sometimes didn't come easily for me. I had to express gratitude. 

There is a dialectical behavioral therapy skill called, "opposite to emotion." This is a skill that allows us to choose to respond exactly the opposite from what our biological response is telling us to. It is helpful when experiencing negative emotions.

This also happens to be Biblical. For example, first Thessalonians 5:18 says, "give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus."

Paul knew a thing or two about "circumstances" having been starved, naked, beaten and imprisoned, just to name a few.

It is easy to misunderstand what a posture of gratitude actually looks like, especially when we've been experiencing perpetual pain of any kind. The word itself can feel prickly and unwanted. Even cliche.

Be grateful. 

Get out your gratitude journal.

Give thanks with a thankful heart.

Have an attitude of gratitude.

Blah, blah, blah.

Aren't we a cynical bunch!

Do you want to be pulled from the stale "there ain't nothin' goin' on in my life?" If so, then you have to make a choice. It's your decision.

This morning, I knew that I needed to turn the corner. I knew I needed to pull myself out of the rut I was in. And so without feeling like it at all, I leaned forward, closed my eyes and started thinking about the things I was grateful for and sharing them with God. Why? Because boredom can be a killer if you're not careful. The enemy will wipe you out with it if you don't screech to a halt.

Negativity and complaining like to hang there, too. Even, complacency. They will drag you down before you've even had time to realize where you're going. 

God knows us. He knows about the sin and misery that entangle us. It's why in the previous two verses He reminds us to: "be joyful always; pray continually..." 1 Thessalonians 5: 16-17

We've got to retrain our brains to move in this direction because it doesn't happen, naturally. We have to be intentional. This takes practice.

I say that often because I think some of us believe that these changes happen, quickly or that we should wait until we feel "something." More times than not, that isn't the case. We have to repeatedly practice moving our mind to gratitude, every day. 

This isn't a modern day cliche or sign we hang in the kitchen. It's in an invaluable practice God expects of us as followers of Him. It's His will for our lives.

2023 was a wonderful year for me. God busted the doors off the hinges. He restored many dead things and brought them to life in the name of Jesus. Other things, He removed. And, much He added.

Some, brought me inconceivable joy.

Others, had me in tears of confusion and questioning - wondering.

Areas of my life that needed healing, were brought balm while other areas poured open in hurt.

The Mighty Counselor, counseled me. He redeemed me. He put a table before me in the presence of my enemies. I didn't even ask for that. He just did it.

He taught me that I can sit in the dust.

Together, we often shared a cup that overflowed.

He spoke to me in the pre-dawn hours filling me with quiet wisdom I would have otherwise not had.

Fragments of post-traumatic stress found their way into the palms of His hands and when my body was assailed, He kept me from falling down under.

He affirmed my value in Him. He told me I was capable.

He increased the volume of truth and muffled the lies.

I asked Him what was real and He showed me.

I can and I will shout from the mountain tops all the days of my life for what Jesus has done for me. My story is not over. Welcome, 2024.

Your story isn't over, either.

Let gratitude be on your lips. Let it reign in your heart. Let it be something you practice all the time. This will enable you to move into your very real self - yes, the real you.

No pretense.

Come, let us worship our King in gratitude for being the strength and joy of our life. We get to be on the road to heaven. Oh, my!

"Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you. In Christ Jesus." 1 Thessalonians 5: 16-18

Written by,

Dee M. Kostelyk